


Maryonette

by AlwaysFullyDressed



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Asexuality, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Don't Try This At Home, F/M, Gen, Sadism, Singing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 107,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysFullyDressed/pseuds/AlwaysFullyDressed
Summary: A young lady becomes the Radio's new pet project, and it's a lovely, bloody ride towards madness.
Comments: 40
Kudos: 41





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UselessFangirl86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessFangirl86/gifts).



> Welcome folks to another story written with the aid of a lovely assistant! One UselessFangirl86. Applaud them for enduring me so enthusiastically, dears. For those whom are squeamish, empathic or faint of heart you may wish to move on. It's one Hell of a ride~
> 
> Those who remain, enjoy the show.

Mary found herself idling bored in the overpriced little coffee shop near her apartment in Hell. But the cost was worth it. For supposedly being a place of torment, they had some incredible baristas down here. Curled comfortably in her comfortable armchair near the windows--still partially broken out from the last extermination--she downed the last of her coffee before putting the cup aside. She supposed she'd probably head out back to her apartment eventually.

With a shrug, she slid her feet back into her shoes and grabbed her bag, fluidly lifting it up over her curving horns before settling it across her body.

Headed toward the door, she calmly dodged an imp that went scurrying past and headed into the streets, tracing the route she'd taken for decades now.

A few blocks from the cafe the streets began to grow sparse, the usual crowds thinning and all but ducking into buildings nearby until the doors were clogged with watchful sinners. It was apparent why, when a soft buzzing tune was heard moments before the Radio Demon turned a corner and began his way in the direction of Mary. 

Twirling his cane, he was watching the usual dispersal with a bored look in his eyes, whistling to the ditty that filled the air around him. Something far too bright for the fear he cast like a shadow on others.

It was impossible to say if he intended mayhem, but the potential was all it really took, and those without cover either froze or tried to cross the street, ducking from his view.

Ahead of the bubble of silence the Overlord caused, May was walking with an easy air. She was in no rush, and her languid pace echoed that.

As she neared the busiest intersection on her path, she stumbled slightly, letting out a soft curse as the cracked sidewalk caught her shoe and attempted to throw her off-balance. Leaning against the nearby building, she braced her bare foot against her other leg, examining the damage to the already beat-up shoes.

"Dammit..." She grumbled, seeing the tear that had separated the toe of the shoe from the sole.

Digging into her bag for something to shore up her damaged shoe until she could get home, she was unaware of the approaching tense silence, eyes peering intently into her bag as she rummaged in it's depths, hoping for a bit of twine or a hair tie she could loop around the front of her shoe for the short jaunt home remaining.

His stride carried him quickly, jaunty in his daily stroll. It was inevitable his gaze would fall on the woman disregarding him, riffling through her things instead. That was different. 

No longer whistling but not changing the ambient station of his aura, he stopped an arm span ahead of her, arms holding the microphone behind his back to bend in a bow to also peer into her purse over her. Curious. 

"Lost your wits in there, my dear?" An upbeat question, tinted darkly with humor.

The sudden voice in the silence she hadn't actively noticed jolted her, earning him a high-pitched yelp of surprise as she startled. Already balanced awkwardly, she finally truly tumbled, the damaged footwear rolling to a stop near the tip of his own immaculate shoes as she thumped twice--first her back against the wall behind her before she landed hard on the cracked sidewalk. 

After a heartbeat, she managed to gather enough wits to look up from where she rested half-sprawled in front of _him._ Her eyes widened as she realized who, exactly, had startled her. In the rush of adrenaline, she couldn't get the words out, forced to swallow hard to finally unlock her tongue so she could stammer out an answer, such as it was.

"I... It's you. Oh shit... Fuck. I mean, I'm so sorry... Um. Just... Let me get that."

The words babbled loose, a veritable river of nervousness as she worked herself up against the wall slightly, reaching out with her fingers to try to hook the shoe that rested within a hairsbreadth of his own.

He blinked, chuckling softly at her graceless tumble and fumbling reply. A single step forward near clipped her fingers, putting her lost item _behind_ him. 

"Such a tumble! That looked like it _hurt_ , didn't it." He teased, bending once again and offering her a sharp hand in good manners. "Why, it's no wonder you have trouble with shoes with two left feet! Haha!" His smile spread, wide with his own humor.

A quiet whimper escaped as he stepped closer, the sinner quickly pulling her hand back as she felt her claws now brush the polished surface of his shoes. 

She knew well enough what he was capable of and instinctively shrank back as he bent over her again and extended those claws. But then again... Maybe he was genuinely offering a hand up? He'd always sounded like a gentleman in his broadcasts. Well, the ones without the screaming victims anyway. She _much_ preferred his musical ones with that Trans-Atlantic flair of his.

After a moment and a nervous glance up at that ever-grinning face, she finally reached out and took his hand, gathering her legs below her as she quietly checked herself over for any unnoticed damage.

"Th... Thanks. I'm okay, really. I guess I just didn't notice you... Coming." She forced a smile to her own lips, much less intimidating than his own. "I was looking for something to help keep my, uh, shoe together when you found me."

Tilting his head, his eyes dropped once to her smile, then back up to hers, mentally awarding her a point. "You hardly seemed lost, how could I find you? But tell me, does it matter who saw who~" 

Raising his hand he snapped and her shoes were back on her feet, repaired and downright new. "There! Now you're all set~" Alastor laughed, gesturing as he resumed twirling his cane at his side absently. "Ready?"

Her feet felt... _What just happened?_ A momentary frown of confusion crossed her face as she looked down at her feet to see her shoes replaced on her feet and in perfect condition. Then she looked back up, her smile was back, wider now and much warmer than before.

Before she could even thank him though, she found herself confused again. He was like trying to guess the direction of a herd of deer startled by a predator.

"Ready for what?" She asked plainly, the confusion cutting through the final threads of nervousness that had been already weakened by his gesture of kindness. Now that she was back on her feet, she found herself fiddling with the strap of her bag. _Stop it!_ she thought to herself, forcing her hands to still. Obviously she'd been well-schooled in old-fashioned manners, even if hers were admittedly a bit rusty after so many years.

His smile made his eyes curl and in a deft move he'd threaded an arm through one of hers, whirling her beside him as he continued his stroll. "Why! To tell me about this lovely gal I just met! It's such a disadvantage, you see, everyone knows _me_ but for _some_ reason no one bothers with introductions anymore~" The demon snickered quietly, the warble in his voice bright as he all but drug her along.

Sinners along the way were wide eyed, conveying a horror to her but no sympathy. No one would redirect his attention in her stead.

Suddenly whirled along beside him, she stumbled against his side slightly before she regained her footing. Was he seriously talking about _her_?! Why in Heaven Above was he at all interested in _her_?

Trapped in that congenial crook of his arm through her own and the unexpected turn of events, she was all but helpless to follow along beside the red-suited Overlord. She could almost hear that ambient, old-fashioned radio hum at this close proximity.

Distracted by the mental whirlwind in her head as she tried to process what exactly was happening, she completely missed the expressions on the other sinner's faces. Had she been less star-struck she may have pulled away but one thing was for sure--the man had a way about him.

"Um. I... Well, I don't really know what to say! I was just headed home and now I have no idea what is happening..." The words came out slightly breathy, between the staccato pace of his and her own whirling mind she could hardly keep up with anything.

"Mmm. Such darling honesty~" Alastor all but purred, looking from the side of his eyes at her. "This, my stumbling lass, would be a great time to tell me your _name_. Humor me, but I enjoy a bit of conversation now and then~" 

If she was at all aware of his shows - which how could she not? He ran every station, every radio show was his doing one way or another- he always told guests, stars, _meals_ that chatter was welcome. "Or shall I fill the silence-?" There was a veiled threat there somewhere.

A delicate blush colored her cheeks at the response. Of course. Her _name!_ Some part deep within her mind caught the threat. It sent a tiny tendril of warning through her awareness, not that it got far as the automatic response spilled from her lips.

"Mary... But most everyone calls me May" she answered, reaching up with her free hand to brush an escaped hair from her face before it settled in a seemingly instinctual way atop his where it rested on her forearm. Perhaps she was growing more at ease the longer they walked.

If an observer hadn't known better, they might have even resembled a courting couple. Though admittedly a strangely-matched set. 

"I... I have to admit I really love your shows. Especially the musical ones. There's something so--" she paused a moment, searching for the word.

"So comforting about them. I don't know what it is. I wasn't even born when those songs were made but somehow they feel... Like home."

She glanced over at him, blushing deeper. 

"I mean... That's probably strange to hear from someone like me, born in the era of Rock and Roll" she smiled awkwardly, her fingers leaving his to tuck that troublesome lock behind her ear again.

If his arm jerked at the touch it was covered by the motion of their gait, his eyes always on her as he moved by confident memory. A tilt of his jaw towards her awarded more attention when conversation turned to genuine flattery. 

"Why, Miss May I'm delighted to hear! I may have stemmed from my liking to provide the awful denizens of hell with the music of their times but I always appreciate a lady who can turn from their known and enjoy a bit of class." She hadn't listed the ones she preferred but he chose to fill in his own blanks. 

"Tell me, what of my _better_ shows?" Again his eyes crinkled at the edge, prodding her to join his mirth no matter her choice, voice low as if coaxing a secret from her lips.

His seemingly genuine response brought that smile back to her own lips. Overlord or no, cannibal or no, he was good at this. But then the question. That one made her falter a bit, the warm smile slipping a moment as she realized what he meant.

His _broadcasts_.

"Well they certainly are... Unique." She offered weakly. The truth was they gave her nightmares for days on end but there's no way she'd admit that here and now with him literally escorting her through the streets to... _Where were they going, anyway_? the thought flashed through her mind.

She'd never been one for a good poker face, and in her moment of nervousness glanced over to see where in the 9 Hells she'd gotten to, whisked along by the charismatic demon.

"Each one is one of a kind! Haha!" He agreed, smiling sharply as he caught what went unsaid. No little sadist on his arm today, but that was fine. Perfectly _fine_. 

The city proper was fading behind them, taller buildings giving way to shorter homes and venues. So many boarded up and clearly vacant, unusual given how overpopulated hell was. Perhaps to do with encroaching wilds, twisted trees and tall shaggy shrubbery that grew in from the outer ring, near where a tall metal tower of metal joists spiraled towards the sky, glittering with flashing red lights. 

"Trouble dear? Surely you could offer a few...comments...on my pastimes?" He hummed, music picking up a more complex tune.

Her form stiffened as she realized where _exactly_ he'd been leading her. A faint pulse of electric current raced through her in conjunction with that bolt of fear, undoubtedly sending a mild tingle into his arm where it contacted her own and snapping tiny blue arcs off the ends of her horns.

"P... Pastimes?" She squeaked out, brain starting to race as she simultaneously tried to calm the panic within. Panicking would do her no good. She had to think. But that was hard to do as that Tower loomed closer.

"Ah... Well... I don't think I can really..." She swallowed around that growing lump of fear in her throat. "I don't think I'd really have much to say. Please... Why are you taking me here?"

The words tumbled free in a rush, even as she started to try to pull her arm from the loop of his own. Polite though she was, she knew _exactly_ what happened in that twisted structure.

Turning his head, his smile actually softened, small and condescending as he covered her hand on his arm tightly with a small poof as his cane disappeared. 

"A pity~ if you're quite at a loss I'll just entertain myself." The music shifted, all tones dying except for a single, melancholic piano that picked up an oddly familiar tune.

"Ne riez jamais quand un corbillard passe,  
Car tu peux être le prochain à mourir,  
Ils t'enveloppent dans des draps sanglants,  
Pour te laisser tomber six pieds en dessous~" 

He singsonged, not pausing and dragging her along without answering her questions.

Her fruitless struggles increased as they grew closer to the entrance, small sparks crackling off her horns as she fought a losing battle against the panic within. She wasn't familiar with French but she knew the macabre tune and it only deepened her mounting terror as the English version floated into her mind.

Her mouth went dry as her heart pounded within her chest, she felt it was certainly loud enough for him to hear it even over the haunting tune. 

Her free hand prised at the iron grip he had on her arm, her terror starting to spill out in wordless cries. Not that there was anyone remaining to hear now. The electric tingle around her started growing stronger, a desperate attempt to break his grasp in a moment of pain so she could flee.

Eventually he let her pry up his fingers just to lace them with hers, spinning her into an impromptu dance across the cobblestones. The street was more dilapidated here but he had sure footing and between her waist and his hand he kept her in tune. Even the sting of her shocks only fueled his grin with the proof of her descent into primitive terror.

"Et pour les vivants, tout va bien,  
Alors que vous vous enfoncez plus loin dans l'enfer,  
Et les flammes montent pour te traîner,  
Dans le feu où tu vas te noyer!"

Walking or dancing was just for fun, his red eyes taking on a back lit glow as he smiled down at her. Drinking in her panicked that was born of nothing more than _seeing_ his home. Truly, he had done nothing to threaten her and the ease he terrified just made it sweeter. 

For a brief moment she thought he'd actually let her go, her attempt to run turned skillfully into a waltz to the macabre tune. In any other setting such an impromptu dance to a French tune might be charming, romantic even. Instead it showed her exactly how likely escape was. Which was to say, precisely nil.

Heels clacking, he swept them gaily around the empty row, right up to his lawn which was actually much more trim.

"Alors ne riez jamais comme un corbillard passe,  
Un jour, tu seras le seul à mourir,  
Et quand la mort apporte son désespoir froid,  
Demandez-vous: "Quelqu'un s'en souciera-t-il?"

By the time they reached the trim grass of his lawn, she was openly shaking in his arms. So much a mockery of a charmed lover. From this close he would be able to see clearly the racing pulse against the sides of her neck and, should he pull her tightly to him, he'd undoubtedly feel that pounding, terrified heartbeat drumming away within it's cage of flesh and bone.

Despite the rushing pulse she was as pale as the death he sang of, his unfortunate victim slowly coming to realize that escape was likely impossible as she whimpered softly, pleading even now for release from this nightmare.

It ended on a dip, and Alastor didn't even bother to hide his cackle. Eyes closed and a bit wild, he twirled her at the impossible angle before righting them. 

Then he let go. Wiped a fake tear from his eye, voice buzzing with the power of his mirth.

"Somehow, I don't think you appreciate the joke~" he patted his coat, one hand tucked behind him and watching her with low eyes. "Although you've been a lovely view. Posilutely electrifying audience!"

If the scenery was blurring at the boundaries of his home, well, it was a _subtle_ hiccup in reality.

She was in shock. He'd... Let her go? She could hardly believe it, so much so that she was frozen on the spot where he'd left her.

It was more than she could process at the moment. Thankfully her instinctual brain finally screamed at her to " _fucking RUN you twit!_ " and finally her body listened.

Without a word, she turned to flee, her bag bouncing off her hip as she went. Unfortunately, in her animalistic panic she'd fled deeper into the borders of his home, leaving behind one freshly-rejuvinated shoe in her haste. 

Alastor didn't pursue her, cocking a brow at the blind panic that flashed across her face before she fled. Seemed she needed a moment then. No matter. 

Turning on his heel he watched her dart off, taking a few strides to watch her retreating form when she circled past the eerie little shack at the base of the tower into trees. Poor May was in for a fright if she didn't turn! The border would just spit her back out at his side...perhaps she'd do laps and tire out.

Unconcerned, the Radio Demon cocked a hip as he pulled his cigarette holder and a lit smoke from the air, arms crossed with one elbow on his fist to enjoy the moment and watch. Idly blowing smoke in distorted rings and humming the song now stuck in his head.

The trees. She could hide there. She'd spent enough time in forests in life to know how to hide. Her flight paused only long enough for her to kick off the remaining shoe as she lifted the bag off herself as quickly as she could and shoved it into a nearby bush. She could replace the contents. She didn't dare look behind her for fear she'd see him in pursuit.

With the burst of panicked adrenaline fading after her flight, she picked her way through the trees more cautiously. It was harder to focus on them the deeper she went--like they were blurring somehow. Until suddenly everything snapped back into clarity and she stepped free of the tree line.

And he was there. Humming in that slightly distorted way of old radios as he smoked. She couldn't help it--she let out a squeak of fright and froze, those blue eyes wide as she stared at him.

Pulling the enameled metal stick from his teeth, he waved his fingers at her teasingly with a wink. "Care to try again?" It was almost warm, his understanding of her plight not at all in the way of enjoying it. 

Flicking ash to the ground he rocked on his heels, not rushing her or making any move towards her. Fight or flight was to be respected and he wasn't about to turn this into a maudlin horror chase - oh how he hated the chase.

He could probably see the facts sinking into her overwrought mind as the gears spun in her head. He wouldn't chase her, obviously, but she also couldn't escape. Running, therefore, would be a pointless and physically exhausting endeavor. Her electric bursts would probably be the same, as she'd probably have to sap every possible iota of energy around her to reach high enough to even make him pause. 

A glance down at her hands reminded her those would undoubtedly be basically useless as well. Maybe a scratch could break through his skills but she highly doubted that would effect much of anything. On second thought, it might make anything he'd thought up go worse for herself.

Her fingers curled into loose fists at the realization, eyes dropping as she bit at her lower lip--a nervous habit her mother never had manged to get rid of. If fighting wasn't an option, and neither was flight, all she could do was hope whatever he plans he had in that horned head of his didn't include broadcasting her across Hell's airwaves.

Decision apparently made, she took a hesitant step toward him, trying to steady her breathing so maybe her pounding heart would slow down a bit. It was a wordless indication that she'd not try to flee again.

"Ah! There is that wit again~" He chuckled, finishing his smoke as she settled herself and tucking the holder back into shadow with a twist of his wrist. Meeting her across the lawn, he bowed to offer his hand again with a near proud smile. "Smile, dear! You have nothing to lose looking your best, you know." 

Behind him his shadow crept over his shoulders, eyes and grin dancing in blue lights to twist uncannily wide. It looked far too excited by her presence as he waited for her to willingly accompany him indoors, the door swinging open at his back on it's own command.

Her eyes flicked up to meet the grinning shadow's gaze, trembling a bit at the way it grinned down at her. Every instinct buried deep within her was telling her to run, screaming it even as she tenuously stepped closer to that outstretched hand.

Pausing just out of his immediate physical grasp, she let out a shuddering breath and smoothed her hands across her shirt to stop their shaking.

With a supreme effort she managed to work her lips into a smile--albeit a strained one that was fragile as spun glass--and rested her hand on his outstretched one. Despite her efforts to present the contrary she was still utterly terrified of what lay beyond that door, that deep-seated fear telegraphing itself into him with the trembling of that delicate touch.

"Good girl~" He praised, genuinely proud. Giving her a moment to let that settle and to enjoy the trembling Frail before he twirled her by the grip and tucked her to his side. 

Leading her indoors, there was a shift as they crossed the door into a shack that opened to an opulent foyer the moment they crossed the threshold. Rush wood panelling, felt wallpaper in red and cream, vintage and classy. A snap and her shoes and bag were hung on the coat rack, retrieved from the lawn, and he tugged her further in with a soft hum. 

"I don't often have guests, you know~ no stray callers at the door! Care for a drink or shall I give you a tour?" Back in bright tones and a brighter smile, ignoring the pest at his back that stared at him quizzically, impatiently.

Her heart felt like it was going to crawl up her throat as he led her with complete gentleness toward that awaiting shack. But with him holding her against his side she soon found herself crossing the threshold into a... luxuriously appointed home?

She stopped in sheer surprise, gaping at the interior that now surrounded her. At least until his gentle tug pulled her further inside. She'd snapped. That was the only explanation. She was actually in the deepest torture chamber with a madman and her mind was just scrambling to protect her from it.

But she would never have summoned this old-fashioned class. A 50s study maybe but this? This was breathtaking. 

As if to assure herself she hadn't _actually_ lost her mind, she rubbed one hand across her eyes before blinking. Nope. All still there. This has to be real then.

"I... I think I need to sit down" she whispered, suddenly feeling entirely faint and not trusting her own legs to hold her up anymore.

Alastor's crackling mirth was knowing and he nodded, walking her through an ajar archway to a parlor fitted with an adjoined study. Seating around a lit fire, a broad desk littered with the mechanical entrapment of his recent repair project. The walls lined warmly with shelves of books and old knickknacks scattered between more grisly trophies and weapons set in stands. 

Setting her in a plush arm chair he turned to a side bar by his desk, pouring himself a tumbler of bitter whiskey and her something softer - a sweet cherry drink one of his contracts adored. 

"Here you are, something for the heart~" Murmuring as he pressed it to her hand, seating himself opposite. "Hell has been smooth for you, hasn't it my dear."

She sank into the plush chair with a grateful noise, taking the proffered drink in both hands as she fought to breathe steadily despite the way her head swam. Clinging to any form of normalcy her mind could grasp, she lifted the drink to her lips and took a small sip of the sweet beverage.

That seemed to ground her a bit and her eyes seemed to finally snap back into focus, fully returning his gaze now not as a panicking prey animal but something more intelligent and present.

His question earned him a curious tilt of her head, that constantly-errant strand of hair brushing her cheek as it fell free again. Sure she wasn't living in the lap of luxury like he was but, she didn't struggle like some did.

"It, well... It has its moments. The first few years were the hardest. The first one especially."

Her voice was steadying now, the adrenaline surge finally wearing off as she realized--at least for the moment--she wasn't in immediate danger of a horrific death. Even the tremor in her hands was nearly gone, helped along by the sweet drink.

"I'll admit I got by with some old skills from life at first. The electricity was a surprise though. Guess Hell has a sense of irony" she chuckled, before holding up two fingers in a peace sign. Though most of those gestures didn't include a small electric arc climbing the clawed digits like a Jacob's Ladder display.

That pulled a bark of laughter from him, swiftly soothed by his own beverage. "That is adorable~" he gestured before nodding. "Oh, it's quite ironic and malicious in one. No matter how delightful some days are it is still Hell for we sinners." His hands moved as he spoke, animated and at total ease. "I for one find the humor of it dry at best. What were your skills, if I may?"

She nodded in agreement at his description of hell. A dry wit indeed. As he spoke her eyes had finally taken in the well-appointed study, lingering a moment on the repair table and wondering if he enjoyed repairing radios as much as he seemed to enjoy _other_ activities that were more inclined to destruction.

A watchful eye would notice her eyes taking in the books more than anything, a hint of a smile forming as she spotted a few of her own favorites among the stacks.

His question drew her attention back though, and she gave an awkward smile and a laugh. "Um... Thievery mostly. I, uh, got pretty good at figuring out how to get into places and identifying the best stuff to hawk for a little extra spending money. At least until that last guy quite literally gave me the shock of my life and I ended up here."

Her claws tapped awkwardly at her glass. She didn't want to be a target of suspicion, apparently.

"But... I swear I'd never touch anything here."

"A useful skill..." He raised his glass to her. "Not one I favor but I have friends who employ it." He continued, laughing again and waving off her concerns with a snickering grin. 

"Oh, I don't believe you would. That would be terrible taste, don't you think? Now, why not unburden your mind a bit before it crushes your pretty neck." He raised his brows in invitation, wondering if she dared. She was smarter than most but also so terribly spookable, it was a pride of restraint he wasn't pressing her buttons further.

She couldn't help it. A blush rose to her cheeks again. She'd always been an easy one to fluster. But that statement. It hung in the air so tantalizingly, but was there a hidden meaning behind it? She elected to take another drink of the cherry-flavored liquid as she thought a moment.

 _Might as well just ask_. she thought to herself. _Not like I'm really getting away..._

Steeling herself a bit and, staring into his eyes with a directness that surprised even herself, she dropped the question that had been careening inside her skull from the moment she'd spotted that tower.

"Are you going to kill me?"

There was a short record screech and complete silence, the first she may have heard in his presence, and then he laughed.

"Oh dear! Is that all you're worried about?" He twisted to support his face on one arm, twirling his drink in the other. "Surely you've died once or twice in Hell...its not often permanent~" His tone alluded it could be, and it also hinted that that perhaps that was best.

Catching himself before his humor got away from him, he nodded. "Oh, yes it's likely. Unless you're very hardy. But I promise not to steal you from Hell for long unless you ask nicely~" A tip of the glass gave the floor back to her.

She bit her lip again, gaze breaking away from his to process the answer without kicking into immediate panic again. Had she died before? It's possible. There were a few times she'd been unable to fight off an attack that had left a noticeable gap in her memory after. She'd never thought of it as a death though. She'd always just assumed she'd lost consciousness or something.

"I'd very much prefer not to die," she answered gently, realizing even as she spoke that the words sounded utterly insane leaving her lips. "But, since I seem to be your next chosen guest it seems I may have to endure it."

How quickly the mind can accept such a thing... From fleeing for her life to openly accepting the inevitability of her death within what felt like no time at all. Much like she'd so rapidly grown used to that faint radio hum that constantly surrounded him.

The shift was notable and honestly assisted the amicable conversation tremendously. Showing fear was such a tantalizing bait and Alastor wasn't even ashamed by how often he willingly let himself take it.

"An excellent outlook darling! Consider this a dinner date with a friend~" His laugh was dark but almost self directed, sipping at his whiskey. "Although you'll have to keep up that sparkling bravado of yours, it's rather refreshing. I might even grow to like you! Ha!" The look his shadow gave him was unimpressed and he shot it a look that dissipated the inky wisp to avoid meeting his eyes.

His words sent a shudder down her spine. Dinner date indeed. She'd heard the whispers about his favorite repasts and they weren't exactly venison, either.

Clearing her throat softly she held out the now-empty glass toward him. It seemed when given no escape she could somewhat fake that bravado, at least partially. "I might need something a bit harder then, if that's what you want." 

That tone... A little practice and it could almost be commanding and firm. As it was, it was simply the flat statement of a death row inmate requesting a last meal. But, at least she was finding the bravery to look him in the eye again, one eyebrow arching a bit at the look the shadow gave her host. Had it been disappointed?

The command had his brows disappearing into his hair, huffing a small laugh but rising nonetheless and taking her glass. "My~ are we discussing what I want now? Bold of you not to grasp at other conversation." 

Topping off his own he suited her a simple old fashioned, a bit kinder on the senses than his bitters, and turned back. Stopping with her glass _just_ outside her reach. 

"How about you tell me how my reputation is faring these days, Miss May of rock'n roll. I'm sure I'm all but lost as a footnote in earth's history, but it's been some time since I brought hell quite the same show." His smile was playful, holding the drink out like a cat toy in front of her.

She let out a wry laugh at his words as he mixed the drink. Mother did always tell her to indulge the host. Funny that all those forgotten lessons in charms and manners would come in so useful in such a strange way.

The fresh smell of the whiskey in the drink caught her nose as he held the glass just out of her grasp. For now she let it remain there. Was he looking for an ego stroking?

"I must admit I'm probably the wrong person to ask about the popularity of your shows. I always seemed to like different things than the rest of the world did. Always preferring a walk barefoot through the woods or the quiet of a book and a radio over a night out on the town. I know your broadcasts are always talked about though. I think the last one even made it into Katie Killjoy's show if I heard right."

She shrugged a bit, shifting slightly in the armchair he'd settled her into earlier to perch with an old-fashioned daintiness on the edge. Of course this brought her closer to him, reaching out for the beverage he teased her with.

It was a half answer but he relented with a wink, handing her the drink to settle with his own. "We have similar tastes then, but I asked about my reputation. What hooey that sleazy vamp spews rarely makes matters better." 

His eyes drifted the room, his thoughts wandering near audibly as the static shifted like a slow turn of a turning dial. Snippets of music, talk, sounds muffled in crackle.

The venomous opinion of the anchor earned him a true laugh this time. She could actually feel the tension ease inside herself at his opinion of the newscaster.

"Well, certainly we agree on that. My neighbor can't get enough of that show. I have to listen to it every day through the walls."

She chuckled into her drink, coughing slightly at the first harsh bite of the whiskey before it softened into a warmth that sank through her.

Tipping the glass in her fingers to watch the amber fluid shift, she pondered a moment, trying to recall snippets of conversation overheard in streets and shops. Whoever would have thought gossip would come in handy? After a moment though, she became distracted, her attention caught by the idle wandering of his aura.

"That reminds me of my father's radio, you know..." She broke into his mental musings softly. "He never could get the damn thing tuned right. I always had to help him. He claimed my fingers were better for the tuning," she chuckled, taking another drink before she set it on a nearby table, letting the firelight catch the edges of the glass.

"To your question though. I think your reputation is strong. They may not mention you by name but everyone knows your work. I don't pay much mind to the whisperings of the other Sinners but I know I always hear more fear after one of your more... vocal guests gets broadcast out."

His gaze turned back to her, curious and listening before softening somewhat at the briefly shared memory. The rest suited his vanity, making him chuckle and nod. Assuaging what felt like a lapse in his sprees after taking on more pressing projects recently.

Perhaps Hell could do a little longer without a reminder then.

"Old radios were like that, before the technology for frequency modulation was available. So touchy! It was as much an art to broadcast to the crowds as it was to keep air alive. I don't think kids these days know what it's like to perform without editing, to always be live and never skim the chaff." His musing went serious for a moment, reminiscing, before he blinked and chuckled with a drink.

"I could be old enough to _be_ your grandpap, Ha! Shame you can't tune me~"

Well _that_ broke her carefully cultivated layer of calm. A bright flush entirely unconnected to the alcohol crept all the way to the tips of her ears at the double entendre her mind found in the joke, and her porcelain skin did little to hide it.

With an awkward grin she quickly took another mouthful of the drink, cursing to herself at how easily her buttons could get triggered. Sure she wasn't a walking radio but she broadcast just fine all the same it seemed.

Alastor, bless damnation, missed the thought entirely. Laughing all the same he waved her blush off. "Oh don't look like that, I'm joshing you. I'm far older than that!" 

Snickering he drained his glass, setting it aside. "I'm actually 150 this year, isn't that splendid? Haven't thought of how to celebrate that quite yet, but I'm sure Hell agrees it will be very entertaining!"

She smiled softly again, that blush fading slowly as he moved to other conversation. She couldn't resist the joke though, and she laughed softly.

"And here you don't look a day over 100," she quipped, "what's the marker for the 150th Anniversary anyway? Seems like all the good ones run out around 50 or 60"

She chuckled, swirling her glass before finishing her own drink while trying to avoid thinking about what he might do to mark the occasion. Past trophies of his work already decorated the space--and those weren't even likely landmark celebrations.

It startled a laugh out of him, wild and happy even if his smile fizzled a bit uncomfortably at the edges when he finished. "Darling, I look like a corpse. No need to be sweet." Serious in his dismissal of himself.

Wiping his eyes, that one had actually struck him, he stood and pointed lightly above the mental where the classic portrait space stood empty. "Perhaps I'll get around to a television. Finally modernize a touch~"

"Oh don't!" she protested, surprising even herself at the suddenness of her own outburst. "It's perfect just like this! Er, I mean the, uh, trophies aren't exactly my taste in decor but the rest is beautiful. A television would just ruin it."

She grimaced a bit, thinking of Vox's shows blaring into this--could she call it peaceful with such macabre trophies about?--quiet space.

Seized in a moment of boldness she rose from her seat. Apparently the liquor had helped, as she started to explore the study, running her fingertips gingerly over the spines of the books and delicately avoiding the sharp edges of the various weaponry.

Biting his lip, he held his chin and continued to survey the space. "I never said it would be _functional_. More of my critique on the matter~" 

Turning he watched her, not at all bothered by the exploration. He had collections of all sorts, both Hell and Earth tomes from the ages. Classics and comedies, poetry and books of science. There was an entire shelf of serial killer biography and study. Even a few flimsy stories that caught his eye from time to time. Neatly stacked between decor and kept dust free with tender affection. The weapons however, bore the stains of their use in an odd dichotomy, some placarded with names and dates, often those with black stains than red.

Curiosity caught her and she carefully examined one or two of the weapons, grimacing slightly as she pieced together the meaning of their stained blades with the neatly printed names and dates, wondering if her own might grace a new display soon.

The idea made her pale for a moment, slipping slightly and nicking her fingertip on one of the blade tips. The only indication of her injury was a quick gasp and a clench of her jaw, fingers curling to hide the blood that welled free of the wound before it could mar any of the surfaces around her.

Behind her, Alastor leaned to her ear, startlingly close in a moment. "Something knick your fancy, dear? I thought you didn't like my toys." If she turned there was nowhere to go but his chest, his arms reaching past her to lift the odd, twisted blade. Drawing a claw down the edge, even in gloves it sounded metal on metal. 

"This one was marvelous. A young upstart who wished to be an Overlord. I'll grant, he had fine tastes and skill, but he wanted to be the rising star of music. Imagine my surprise that he refused to see the issue that made." Tapping the dark stains, inky on the blade. "Carved my eyes out. His name was Machiavel. Good man, that one. Quick~"

His sudden presence startled her yet again, that voice in her ear as that static hum surrounded her. As expected, she spun, finding herself pinned between the wall and his tall frame as he plucked the twisted weapon from the wall to recount it's tale.

The sound of that metallic grinding made her shiver, her eyes moving to watch his claw drag down that blade. That blade that was suddenly so dangerously close. Her heartbeat picked up again, her wounded finger throbbing in counterpoint to her pulse as the slow trickle worked over her knuckles to drip to the floor.

"Your eyes..." she answered softly, her own fixed on the tip of that blade as she swallowed nervously

Grinning wickedly, he tapped the blade just under his left eye, gathering hers to his face. His sclera bled black in a wave, the air around them shifting as the waves he emitted became visible and distorting, eyes flashing like dials for barely longer than a breath.

"Yes. My eyes." He blinked and all was merry, cherry red again. "Seems many of my dance partners take exception to my appearance and for some reason it's the eyes." Chuckling, he replaced the blade behind her head with a soft thump. "What is _your_ weapon of choice, my electrifying friend?"

Her own blue eyes, so similar to how they looked in life still, followed that tapping on his cheek and widened as he revealed that darkness that he normally hid. Just for a moment but it was a moment long enough to weaken her bravery.

As he leaned closer to replace the blade she let out another nervous squeak, stiffening as she heard the thump of the stained blade settling back into the wall.

"I d-don't really have a weapon. I really only ever used a pocketknife or camp knife..." the question was just so odd but she figured answering it was safer than not.

When he stepped back one hand lingered, catching on the small of her back to pull her along beside him. Softly, claws barely pricks through the fabric. 

"How charming! I've always loved knives as well. My particular favorite. Except for this silly dare I took once to spice it up. Found myself handy with an axe but the blows don't kill reliably enough.." Slowly he drew her to the door. To the hall. "I think it's the distance. I prefer to be much closer, you see and an axe is almost brutishly impersonal. But I still won the bet! Haha!"

She was drawn along with him, the faint pinpricks of those wicked claws on the small of her back coaxing her straighter alongside him as gooseflesh rose along her spine. Her wounded fingertip forgotten as she was escorted through his home.

The idea of being brought to an end with the business end of an axe earned him a shudder against his side, her step momentarily going out of sync with his own.

Her eyes drifted longingly back to the door he'd first drawn her through, tearing away only with determination to keep her attention on him. He seemed to like that best.

Down the hall, around a corner was an archway that seemed to break the universe again. The floor broke off into grass, the walls opening to a space of lush nightlife that couldn't possibly be contained in the span of his borders. A midnight blue sky was lit by the full moon, cottonwood trees and willows dotting and growing thicker against a bank of water that sloshed with a lazy current against a ridge of cattails and weeds. 

Without breaking stride he pulled her across the lawn, only conscientious of her socked feet in the semi-soft soil. As they moved they disturbed fireflies that he turned to glance at fondly, headed towards a magnolia tree along the bank. 

"You're awfully quiet again, Miss May~"

By now she accepted the insane world of his making, her stockinged feet sinking into the lush grass and soft soil as he led her through the beautiful lawn. 

She drank in the beauty as they walked, taking in a deep breath as she smelled the rich life around her, comforting her with reminders of her own youth spent in similar settings. It wasn't often one saw scenes like this in Hell and she was going to enjoy it--even if she was potentially going to die. She still wasn't certain on that fact so it remained in her mind a possibility.

His words pulled her awareness back to him and she blushed softly under the impossible moonlight. "You frighten me" she said softly, as if afraid that admitting it would break the spell. "You terrify me and then you turn around and charm me. It's very dizzying..."

The demon's laugh was warm, forgiving. "I see that! And so often when I least expect either~" He ceded, not the least resentful of her fright. It was charming as well, her honest telecasting of emotions.

Under the magnolia he stopped them, his hand softening on her spine to a simple warm touch he let linger as he looked up at the trees. "What are you scared of?"

His admission of noticing her swings of emotion deepened her blush, once again cursing herself silently for being so easy to read. It certainly did her no favors in Hell.

Another question that drew her to silence for a moment. Who would have thought a torn shoe would have led her to a night of such repeated self-contemplation.

"I presume you mean more than the things that bring me momentary fright..." She answered, relaxing under the soft warmth now lingering on her back in contrast to the faint coolness of the breeze coming off the river. "And instead mean the things that terrify my soul--if one in fact remains to me"

"I meant whatever you heard. You scare rather easily but nothing sticks! I'd like to hear what keeps you up at night when the boogeyman wears shadows and not a waistcoat." He didn't look back to her, still engrossed with the scenery of his crafting.

Ah. So her nightmares then. With a soft rustle that faded in with the breeze, her form moved away from his touch. Not from his side however. She was simply bent over to pull her soiled stockings off, happily letting her bare feet sink into the soft ground as her stockings were left in a tiny pile.

Soon enough she'd straightened up again, fishing her ponytail off the end of one horn as she did. It'd been so long since she'd felt anything this luxurious under her feet.

"I guess the same thing now as when I was alive. The fear of dying, though now I know it might not work the same here," she chuckled softly, joining him in gazing up through the branches of the magnolia. "But still that lingering fear of the void is there"

He nodded, a hum in his throat. His restraint was cracking so he didn't look back to her. One more moment of peace as he listened acutely to the waters move, the rustle of insects and grasses.

"And which side of me scares you more. The man or the monster?" His tone brokered there was no other answer she could give.

The answer rose with surprising ease. "The man..." She answered softly, crossing one arm across her chest and rubbing at the other, her gaze dropping to the river, watching that moonlight glint off the current. "The monster is easier to predict"

"Indeed." He whispered, more to himself. 

"Then I shan't sully him further." He laughed and it screeched like metal. When he looked back at her his eyes were feral dials, holding as the air flickered in snaps when he moved. 

Claws around her throat he slammed her backwards onto a table that materialized under her, broad and plain with white cloth. His other hand plucked a knife from beside her face, long as a carver and thin. Setting it at the hem of her shirt to cleanly split it down the center, grinning far sharper than any before.

That sudden harsh laughter yanked her from the pleasant scene, terror leaping into her eyes as she saw those horrible feral eyes gazing back.

She didn't even have time to scream before she was slammed into the tabletop, the impact knocking the wind from her as she grabbed at his wrist in automatic reaction. She saw the movement from the corner of her vision, letting out a truly terrified cry as she saw the gleam of the blade.

Her legs kicked as she tried to find purchase on anything that might let her push free of that iron grip on her neck, faint crackles of electricity starting to pulse around her form again as she kicked into sheer survival mode, feeling the back of that knife travel up her torso and parting the thin fabric of her shirt with frightening ease. It was wickedly sharp, that much she could tell through her terror.

Alastor didn't strip her further, no interest in an eyeful or demeaning her. He had to admit to himself the shock stung, but it wasn't much interference- not when there was so much true static in his head. The distortion around him was crackling, leaning into snippets and recordings of wails and screams as his thoughts turned bloody. Drowning out the music.

Miss May was rather nice though, and that thought guided him to make their first little party - was he already planning a second? Hm - kinder. 

Flipping the blade into a reverse hold he pressed to her sternum just above the ribs and sliced her cleanly to the hem of her pants in a deft flick, practiced at opening without gouging, before he crossed her waist in a x. Quiet as he worked, reminded how this always reminded him of filleting fish.

The pain of that knifepoint pressing into her flesh earned him another cry as she writhed fruitlessly against the solid tabletop, tears springing unbidden to her eyes. But the line of fire that erupted down her body heightened that cry into a feral shriek, her claws digging into his wrist mindlessly as she arched away from the table.

She could hardly breathe through the haze of pain as the second clean slice crossed her waist--another crackle of her current arcing through her. Those kicking legs slowly stilled as she shuddered both from the pain and the feel of her own blood running down her sides to stain that pristine white fabric.

After a moment she sagged back against the table, her eyes shutting tightly against the pain as she panted desperately for breath, each exhale coupled with a desperate pained whimper as her fingers held his wrist in a shaking grasp.

He cleaned the blade with swipes of his tongue, an odd rumble in his chest before stabbing the blade into the table beside her. Pulling his spare glove off with his teeth, he tossed it aside, rather sure she would not be admiring his scarred flesh in her state.

" ~~Remember to breathe, dear ~~~ " He cackled, slipping his rather ungentlemanly claws into her new seams. 

His eyes were riveted there, on the blood welling around his fingers, then the meat of his hand as he reached deeper. Searching and feeling and perhaps just enjoying the unnaturalness of digging through a live person's organs a bit too much. Slicing connections with claws and securing a handful of viscera to pull onto her lap, still digging out her entrails.

She panted in shuddering gasps, yelping as the knife thudded into the tabletop beside her. She could almost handle this. She could do this. She--

The feel of his claws pressing though those fresh wounds made her sob out. Her fingers tightened again around his other wrist but she wasn't even aware she still gripped it, her claws digging deeply into his own flesh as she felt his hand sink deeper into her body.

Her free hand moved to try to stop him as he dug about within her, the blood flowing freely now as he worked to gut her, some part of her mind still aware enough to want to stop this despite the shock setting in to the rest of her body and the fact that her entrails were piling up in a bloody, slippery mess on her lap.

"P... Please..." She gasped out, her chest heaving in gasps of indescribable pain as he searched and scraped and sliced within her.

Her soft plea made the demon chuff, an inhuman sound of amusement. There was nothing _right_ in the angle of his smile, something distorting in how light played on the angles of his body, fracturing in his antlers which resembled the same twisted trees of Hell. 

" ~~Enjoy it. Isnt it thrilling? Tell me, May ~ have you ever been more aware of how alive you are than right. This. Moment?~~ " He half mocked, but there was heat in his tone. Excitement. 

Finally he grasped what he wanted most, excruciatingly delicate for a moment. " ~~Breathe now~~ " he warned, knowing the terrible pain she was about to feel, then tearing her liver free in a wet snap. 

Ears trained to hear her scream, impatience finally won. The tease of her on his tongue too much to resist. There was no decorum in the monster as he relished his prize, snapping and tearing, dripping blood across her and himself with low growls of pleasure. Turning then to _tidy_ the mess he'd half removed, uncaring if it was truly separated as he ate.

His excited, feral tone sank into her as she stared up at him with wide eyes that took in the full form of the Radio Demon. Her tears had left wet trails along the sides of her head, a subtle pattern decorating the fabric at her head that was a pale imitation of the horror further down the table.

Now that his arm was partially buried within her, she felt him pause--more an internal stillness after the roils of pain. She felt like she couldn't get a full breath, yet she still released an ear-splitting scream as she felt that tearing so deep from within her as he yanked out something.

Finally her grip weakened and fell away from his wrist as he messily devoured the dark flesh of her liver. Blood had started pooling into the cavity where until so recently her intestines had resided and some small flicker of awareness realized she'd never felt cold _on the inside_ before. Her eyes started to grow unfocused as her vision swam, starting to grey about the edges as a distinctive tingle set in to her fingers and toes. The fight was literally bleeding out of her as he relished his raw prize.

He ate like a starved man, no regard and no thought to the horror he was. Civility could wait. He _could_ be mannered. But...

Not today.

His neat incision were lost, torn and shredded as he feasted, now using both hands to pick her apart in shreds, tearing into meat and ribs, cracking them from her as easily as snapping twigs. 

All the while her faltering heartbeat played in his ears, a tune he practically dined to with delight. Only when it started to lapse, trauma and loss shaking the tempo, did he turn his grisly face towards her. Reaching to stroke knuckles on her cooling cheek. " ~~Smile, dear. You're dying...~~ " He grinned, horrific, and laughed like it was the greatest joke he could tell.

Her cries were still here if he listened--though growing weaker as her body fought the losing battle against blood loss under his monstrous appetite. Finally she didn't even have the strength to whine in pain anymore.

Her breaths were faltering and often accompanied by a wet rattling noise he was surely familiar with. She'd become hardly more than a barely-living rag-doll, the only movement besides her failing heartbeat being from the jerks and slices of his relentless hunger.

She still was alive just enough to feel the nearly affectionate stroke of his knuckles across her cheek, her eyelids fluttering and falling partially closed. But not before the muscles in her bloodied cheek tugged weakly, twisting her lip in the faintest half-smile that showed the slightest hint of her teeth before her body went fully limp and stilled entirely atop his table.

The only remaining sound she created was the dripping of her blood off the edge of the table onto the floor as her heart finally gave out.

Alastor took a moment to admire her, his own smile dropping to a half smirk mirroring her own once his mania fled. For a second he truly considered erasing her. Not out of spite, in fact that lack was what stilled his hand, but because he _wanted_ her heart. To devour her entirely.

Instead he finished his meal in a quieter joy, static eventually shifting back to haunting music by time he had eaten or butchered what he wanted from her. Not that she'd need it!

Later he scooped up what was still her and retreated from the dining room, taking a twisting path upstairs to a guest room decorated for a lady in vintage furnishings and bright periwinkle. Laying her in the bed with a small wave that set a healing veve glowing on her chest, perhaps shortening her task from weeks to days. "Rest well, Mary." Tucked her in and left to resume tidying himself and working on that troublesome stereo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you darlings for the conclusion of introductions, if you have need of reaching out I can be found by this name on discord and Twitter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, it will be updated as my whim demands, and as ALways~ stay tuned


	2. Landlord to Overlord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small upgrade in society. Who wouldn't take the opportunity to do the same?

The silence in the room he'd placed her remains in was shattered suddenly by an outburst of fear. May had come, quite literally, screaming back to life as the healing veve has finally faded from her chest. Throwing off the bed sheets, she ran her hands over her body, finding no cuts, no viscera. Barely the faintest hint of soreness lingering in her ribs and belly.

Finding no damage from the nightmare - _was it?_ \- she pressed her hands to her face, taking a shuddering breath before looking to where she expected to see a bottle of water on her nightstand. The nightstand that wasn't there. That was when she finally really looked at the room. _Where am I?_

Her eyes settled on an old-fashioned day dress hung on a wardrobe. Dark green and created to the best of 1930s fashion. Her own clothes were nowhere to be seen. _What had been in that coffee?_ And what did I do last night? she wondered, even as she slid from the bed and over to the dress.

Lacking anything else to wear, she slid into the dress, somehow unsurprised at how it fit her perfectly. A pair of stockings and some buckles later to hold the similarly well-fitted heels on her feet and she found herself wandering out the door of her room to see where she'd awoken, and in who's care.

The upper floors were of similar style with spacious halls and slightly over the top decor. Not because it was over done but because there was so _much_ red. Tastefully balanced with dark woods and cream accents, a long hall that split at the end to a stiletto archway into a lofted library where a piano was in view. Doors parted off, none matching from soft wood to old rickety metal and drift, but somehow cohesive in the madness. The other end of the hall held only one door, no larger than others but simply marked with a black stylization of antlers on red wood. 

In the library a spiral staircase led downstairs where music was playing loud enough to fill the house. Undistorted but tinny in an upbeat swing, clacks of the demon's tapped heels on tile as he entertained himself off in a kitchen somewhere by the scent in the air.

Her fingers ran lightly over the wall as she walked. Whoever she'd ended up with apparently did well enough for themselves and, possibly, was respectful enough not to take advantage of her. Apparently even providing her with a private room and clothing, for some reason.

The madness seemed familiar in a strange way, but she instinctively knew the red wood door would somehow be the wrong choice, so she traveled toward the library. A soft smile graced her expression at the beautiful old piano--she couldn't resist tapping out a few lines of a song from memory. Why she picked the Hearse Song she'd never know but the piano sang out the notes perfectly. This was more than just a display of wealth with that degree of tuning.

That was when the faint scent of some unknown meal caught her attention. She suddenly realized she was _ravenous_. Like she hadn't eaten anything in days! An angry grumble from her belly ended the decision-making and she worked her way down the stairs, following both the music and the enticing smell until her Oxford heels clacked softly into the tile floor behind him, the girl gripping the door frame as she finally saw him. _How in the WORLD had she ended up in the Radio Demon's spare bedroom?_

Sans his coat and vest, Alastor was very near dancing around his kitchen in a dressed down comfort, hair tied back as he worked and hummed to the wordless song a record player in the corner provided. A reasonable person might think he was cooking for a dinner party just by the size of the pots and pans he worked, his shadow nipping at his heels in equally happy vigor and assisting in stirring or mixing when he was turned to another task. 

It took over completely when he turned to see her, his already happy face breaking into a more exuberant greeting as he lit up. "Oh, Miss May! Good...afternoon!" He checked the time, never quite aware of it. "Don't you look lovely~ Don’t just loiter, dear, come have a seat." Gesturing to the bar stools at the counter island. "I'm sure you're thirsty." A snap and there was a pitcher of lemon water and a glass there for her, the demon turning back to some of his task.

She blushed softly as his compliment, brushing her clawed fingertips delicately over the fine fabric before she fully entered the kitchen--eyes closing a moment as she took a deep breath of that mouth-watering smell.

Those practical heels marked her steps with sharp taps as she crossed to the island where he'd summoned the pitcher and glass for her. Slipping up onto the seat, she poured herself a glass of the lemon water and lifted it to her lips with every intention of sipping at it. But apparently she was just as thirsty as she was starving and the glass of perfectly tart water vanished in a blink.

Slightly embarrassed by how quickly it had vanished, she poured another. This time, thankfully, she was able to go about it more gracefully, watching him and his odd shadow work in tandem over the stove. "I, uh, don't really remember what happened last night but, um, thanks. I assume from my room you were nothing but a gentleman. I hope I wasn't too... Untoward in my behavior." She offered in case any apology for her behavior was needed. She did enjoy imbibing a bit too much at times, she'd admit that.

He paused what he was doing to chuckle, shooting her an amused look over his shoulder. "Oh, you were no trouble at all last night. Slept like the dead!" He continued mirthfully, "But I'm surprised at your calm~ you were tripping over yourself the first time we met! Wake in odd places often, dear?" 

Turning he pointed at his stereo device, flicking as it turned to a more companionable volume. Set things to simmer and collected his own glass of clear rum from the counter to spin and drop his elbows on the island. "But your thanks is unnecessary, Miss May. A gentleman needs no prodding to be decent."

_Tripping... Didn't she trip over her shoe?_ Is that how this all got started? she wondered quietly to herself. The flush deepened on the apples of her cheeks again at his question. True, she had woken up in unexpected locations before. The softening volume of the music had her glancing at the record player a moment before her gaze returned to his. _Why am I so nervous about his eyes?_ She couldn't help but think. Things weren't adding up and it was frustrating, this slow rebuilding of her memories.

"Well, still. Thank you. I'll admit I've woken up in strange places more than once without remembering how I got there, but none of them have been this pleasant to be in," she smiled, the expression warm and genuine despite her growing suspicions that _something_ had happened last night he wasn't telling her.

"I hate to bother but... I am absolutely starving! Is there anything I might be able to eat?" she finally asked. She knew it wasn't _technically_ polite but the volume of those growls from her midsection were only growing more insistent, and the smells from the stovetop definitely wasn't helping that at all.

"It's no bother, but you'll have to bear with me a few moments more. One thing I refuse to magick is good food." He hummed, although a thought struck him almost immediately and he waved a small plate of warm calas in front of her - semisweet round fritters with a honeyed glaze. "Peace offering for your patience." He winked.

The smile widened on her face, curiously plucking one of the treats from the plate and giving it a nibble. Only by force of will did she resist shoving it whole into her mouth as that fried treat met her tongue.

After a bite, still trying to remain polite, she offered a soft thanks, the glazed rice fritters slowly quieting the growling beast that had apparently taken up residence inside her. She got a bit caught up in eating them--seriously she felt like she hadn't eaten in days, why was that?--and as she finished the last one, she slipped the pad her thumb between her lips to rid it of a lingering bit of honey glaze with a soft suck, noticing a faint line of a scar she didn't remember before when she wiped her fingers on the napkin. Another mystery to add to the pile, apparently, and one that came with the memory of a sound of metal-on-metal.

Alastor gave her peace to snack, turning to finish a few things with a bit of a sway, still merrily listening to his record and far, _far_ too amused by her apparently traumatized memory. _That_ was sure to be amusing if it snapped back.

"Care to be a darling and set the table?" Phrased as a question, he still expected obedience, flicking towards the cupboards absently with a look at the informal table set to the rear of the room.

His request shook her from her reverie and she nodded, that rhythmic tapping returning as she crossed to the cupboards. It took a few false starts but she eventually found the neatly stacked tableware, lifting down two sets--once or twice having to go on tiptoe despite the slight boost from the borrowed heels. Glancing about for a moment, she found the drawers as well and soon had gathered the utensils as well with a bit of rattling.

She seemed a natural, and if her hair had been done up in those old-fashioned curls and pinned in place she'd practically look like she'd stepped straight out of his days. There was hardly even a noise of the table being set, the settings soon laid out. Maybe she was a bit rusty on the finer points of societal manners but this, apparently, had never worn off. Straightening as she laid the last bit of flatware, her hands smoothed over her dress before gathering her hair behind her neck again to sweep it from her freckled face.

If his eyes glanced over her work as he set food on the table it was brief, finding no fault and easing his grin at that small delight. It took him a few trips, enjoying the mundane methods of being domestic before gesturing her to a seat.

"Thank you, dear. Now, enjoy and help yourself." His grin closed his eyes, seating himself and gesturing her to serve herself with a casual wave. It wasn't as though there was worry for enough, a rather multi course meal of southern cooking set out, etouffee and rice, biscuits and a greens gumbo with far too much meat. More calas that he picked at while he watched her lightly.

She helped adjust the dishes as he laid out the feast, wondering just how he expected them to actually eat all this themselves.

Although she heard him when he told her to take a portion, she didn't obey that time. Well, not immediately anyway. Instead of taking her seat she shook her head, her dress rustling in time to the sound of her heels as she approached him. The least she could do would be to serve him first. Whether it be simply the amnesia or a moment of boldness--perhaps both--she was being much braver than the last time he'd been around her.

"I don't know what happened last night, but since I woke up you've been nothing but kind to me. You went through such trouble to make sure I was comfortable! Please, let me serve you."

She smiled gently, unaware of how he could easily take that phrase in a multitude of ways, even as she reached for his plate, picking up that ever-present hum of his static.

Alastor heard it. There was no way he couldnt and his eyes dropped to a low, slow grin but he managed to bite back the words that sprung to mind. "If that is your wish, dear~ How thoughtful." He purred, setting back and instead indulging in his drink. 

"Do you _wish_ to know how you arrived here? It hardly seems to matter." He tiptoed, returning his thoughts instead to the surprising about-face her mood took with a bit of rest and civility around her. Such a unique study into her psychology.

Blissfully unaware of the trap she'd avoided, she gracefully took his plate and bowl, serving up a generous portion of the etoufee and a couple biscuits as he spoke. She had just lifted the ladle from the richly fragrant gumbo when he offered to fill in the details of last night.

An unexpected tendril of a deep and nearly feral terror suddenly wrapped around her mind. _It sounds almost like_... She felt the realization rising. It had been in her nightmares, the ones that had woken her screaming. The ladle telegraphed that momentary tremor before she tamped down the memory trying to surface. _Stop being silly. It was just a bad dream!_ she scolded herself, as she resumed that easy scoop, filling the bowl with the meat-heavy greens and spices.

She soon had the rich meal set in front of him, being sure to add a couple calas to the side before she straightened again, only then retrieving her own setting to serve herself as she answered him.

"Well... I think it's slowly coming together but it's hard to tell what was real and what was a dream," she began, serving herself a smaller portion than his own but still ecstatic to try it. "I remember something about one of my shoes--not these of course--being damaged. Somehow the Hearse Song got involved... I think there was some dancing and a reference to a dinner date with a new friend?" she chuckled, smoothing the skirt of the dress before she settled at the seat across from him, agile fingers quickly placing the napkin across her lap like she'd been taught in her youth.

What odd details to remember, but this could work out well. He nodded, waiting until she was settled to dig into his own meal. It was a unique method of being both refined enough to look mannered and practiced method to _get food into himself_ as quickly as possible. A blink and he could clear quite a bit.

"That sounds accurate enough. I thought we had a delightful time, but perhaps I should let you serve your own drinks from now on." Her manners were driving a thought home in his skull, and he quickly pieced it together to continue. 

"So far this dinner is lovely. I had actually been toying with the idea of asking you to stay. It's rare to find company I enjoy in Hell, and I can stand to offer my resources in exchange for more of these dinner dates~" He was careful with his tone, not trying to spark her mind any further. "What do you think?"

Her own meal vanished quite quickly--though like him she was certain to keep her manners polished. It just seemed to rub off, or perhaps the rusty training was just starting to kick back in the longer she spent in the company of someone with genuine refinement for the first time in decades.

She paused at the offer, fingers tapping softly at the glass she'd been sipping from. Would it be too forward to just accept? Her apartment definitely wasn't as nice as all this and she could probably get used to this cooking... Well, he had offered and there seemed to be a natural ease between them. What could the harm be?

"I think," she started, taking a sip of the simply flavored lemon water before answering, "I think that sounds wonderful. But I wouldn't dare presume! You hardly even know me!" she smiled softly. Her conscious mind had apparently already been hard at work repressing the memories of a very _different_ meal from the last time she'd been in his presence.

"Besides, you'll spoil me with this cooking..." she quipped playfully, breaking a piece of rice fritters off with those delicate claws and lifting it to her lips to enjoy the unique flavor combination again.

"There is no presumption, my dear! But how about this~" He took a moment to reflect, a sip of his rum that he held in a showman pause because there was nothing to reflect on.

"You stay and keep me entertained with your wit and lovely dinner company, _let_ me get to know you, and should I tire of you I'll let you go with no hard feelings." He smiled sweetly, eyes crinkled and not a fang in sight. Offered his hand across the table with a playful chuckle. "Deal?"

She may have heard his broadcasts and the whispered rumors toward _non-traditional_ eating habits, but with the horror of the previous encounter repressed or still resurfacing, she had no true reason to suspect anything. She'd never heard of him offering deals before. Was he a bit old-fashioned? Sure. But then so was she. And frankly this was a huge trade up from the scrabble she'd known so far.

Her own smile mirrored his warmly as she extended her hand and placed it in his own gloved one to seal the offer. "Deal" she answered simply.

A shock of heat flashed between their palms, a spiral a green light circling like a viper around their handshake to twist up their wrists in lightning angles before that heat burned up her arm and into her chest. Like a tease of hot water to settle around her heart in a brand only few would see. 

A moment later he let go, grinning wide as if the power of his expression could deny that contract had just been signed. "Wonderful! How very exciting~" he tucked back into his meal, nonchalantly serving himself more with a tidy gesture. "I look forward to digging a bit deeper into our new friendship, darling! Haha!"

She gasped loudly at the flash of green, her eyes closing for a moment as it flared until her vision could adjust. Her left hand pressed to her chest over her heart as that alien heat settled there, the beat quick in her moment of shock.

As he released her hand she stared at her palm in shock, wondering what trap she'd just stepped so easily into. But he made no hostile move, no clear sign that anything more than a face-value deal had been made. But only a fool would believe it was that simple after _that_ display.

_Well... No going back now!_ She said to herself, curling her fingers to rub over the fading mark of that jolt on her palm. A steadying breath later and she was sipping gracefully at the water again. Apparently she'd lost her appetite despite the small remnants left on her plate, and soon she'd tidied her flatware onto the dish, folding her napkin loosely and replacing it on the tabletop. Might as well find out the limits of this agreement...

"So. How should I retrieve my remaining things? Will I be able to... Leave here? Or am I restricted to the grounds?"

"We can fetch them in a bit, Miss May! And of course! When did I ever suggest otherwise~" The demon hummed, giving her a high browed look of faux confusion. Giving no indication to which question he answered. 

"What sort of man would upend the accomplishments you've made in your second life, why, that just wouldn't be fair. Were you alone?" He noted her lack of eating, the way she politely displayed it but stayed. It urged him in kind to finish his meal, snapping what remained setting away for later as he did.

Her lip twitched in a momentary grimace at the non-answer to her query. Guess she'd just have to employ a bit of experimentation to find out the answer for herself later. 

She realized belatedly he'd continued talking and tried to recall what he'd said as her mind wandered for that short moment. Something about not disrupting the life she'd made.

"Oh... Yes, quite alone. And a menial job they could get any half-wit for. It just covered the rent, really."

She shrugged a bit. She may have walked herself into a trap but, she had to admit at least it was a luxurious one.

Standing, he dusted off his immaculate shirt, a flicking gesture that cleared the table of all but his drink that he drained and vanished as well. "Seems I've soured your mood, darling. Pity that." He met the eyes of his shadow across the room, the wisp having tidying the kitchen as they ate. Shared a grin.

"I'll break you of this meek habit, yet, I suppose. Pardon that I couldn't turn down the opportunity to extend our time together." Around the table to reach under her chin, tapping up with a claw to raise the girl's face. "Am I that awful?"

Her cheeks flushed brightly as he lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his red eyes with the blue pools of her own. Something stirred behind that gaze as she looked up, he could nearly see the gears spinning as her mind tried to decide if those were eyes in her nightmare. If it _had_ actually been just a fantasy in her sleep.

It was finally released in a softly shuddering breath that washed down his wrist, her eyes breaking that gaze for a moment before that claw had her looking back up again.

"Just... It's sudden" she answered softly. "I don't really know what to expect now."

Those delicate fingers twisted nervously in her lap, suddenly certain she'd end up in some sort of dungeon of twisted pleasure. The thought spread and deepened that red flush on her cheeks, her pulse quickening as she stared uncertainly up at her--what should she even call him now?

Bowing, he gave her quite the close view, noses nearly touching. "Life is always sudden. You should never expect anything at all~" Alastor tapped his claw, turning it to trace to her pulse and rest there as he quirked a brow at her. 

She really made the sweetest little faces. Such a little mystery! Suddenly he was reminded how _glad_ he was to have kept her. Even if it had felt foreign to have a lady sleeping in his home for so many days, a strange intrusion on his mind. No matter! He'd adjust in the name of good fun...and better meals. 

"Now, unless you'd just rather _not_ , how about you show me to that apartment."

Her heart nearly stopped entirely as he leaned in, a soft noise escaping her throat and vibrating softly against his fingertips as he trapped her yet again between a surface and himself. 

"Y-yes... Right," she stammered out, carefully lifting herself from her seat, cheeks still flushed brightly as that pulse hammered away, thrumming through the arteries in her neck.

He stood up to match her, quicker with a slight hop on his heels. "Good girl!" He ruffled her hair, grabbing her waist to pick her up in a spin just to set her back down. Almost too quickly in his high energy. 

"Let's be on then. I've been sitting home for _days_." A gesture and he was fully dressed, tipping a hat from space to twirl on one finger and guiding her with a soft hand in the direction of the door. "I am such a jitter you see, always have been! In my time it was the _thing_ to be out living! Being a homebody is just so tiresome."

She squeaked in surprise as he scooped her up by the waist and spun the pair of them, unable to stop herself from giggling at the sudden excitedness he showed. 

Her fingers rose to smooth her hair back into order as she walked alongside him, enjoying the soft feel of his hand against her back as he guided her toward the door. Oh yes, she could get used to this. 

Without even really thinking she moved gently against his side, seeking the comfort of another even as she walked with him. This time, at least, they looked properly matched as they walked. 

"I'm not sure exactly how to get there from here. I've never been this far out before. Well... Not that I can remember doing" she chuckled, twisting a bit of hair around her claw.

With a practiced ease he kept a space between them, perfectly congenial with his arm the only contact but allowing her close enough to feel the inferno radiating under his skin. "Never worry, I know every _nook and corner_ of Hell. I'll get you to civilization and you can take my reins from there!" 

Once outside he tipped the hat onto his head, covering his antlers as a byproduct although nothing would hide his ears, and looped their arms properly. It was mid evening by this point, the red sun low behind buildings and he gave the dimming sky an appreciative glance before dragging her into a middling trot at his side.

"So tell me something I don't know about you~" His microphone appeared, held off the ground to be twirled through his fingers.

She couldn't hold back the smile at his blatant showmanship as he settled the hat skillfully onto his head. In what was quickly becoming an easy habit her hand rested gently on his arm as she fell into step alongside the taller demon.

"Well, I was the only one in my family who was excited about the food when we traveled to New Orleans once. I don't think I remember my mother ever looking so scandalized as she did when she saw me eating chicken feet!" she laughed openly at the memory, the picture of her mother's face frozen in horror at the sight of her daughter eating what amounted in her mind to peasant fare.

"I always wanted to go back there but I never did make it. I'd always heard Mardi Gras was quite the experience." she mused softly, trusting him to guide her through the rough terrain as she looked to the dimming sky. Yet again a memory tried to surface as she saw that bloody-red sun, and part of it broke through--the glistening of blood on a knife as she watched him lick it clean from an oddly prone position as she heard someone sobbing. The image made her shudder and wonder where that had come from.

A scoff came before he could stop it, brows twisted incredulously. "That pushed her? Why, she shouldn't play in the south then! Not much goes to waste in the bayou~" Looking askance at her Alastor adopted a fake, scandalized expression of his own. "I didn't just acquire a _yankee_ did I?" 

If that owned up that his cooking was more natural than mere recipe chance he didn't mind. She'd learn plenty of him, inquisitive or no, since he couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Ha!

His attention was momentarily stolen as they left his unofficial territory, walking down the middle of the street towards the dense throngs of the evening crowd. It was fairly certain in his head that half the camera and robotic eyes in the sector were turned specifically to see his comings and goings like a cheap storm warning drill. People scattered.

Her cheeks colored a bit at his joke but she laughed softly. "Sadly I have to admit I come from above the Mason-Dixon line indeed," she joked back. "I hope you won't hold it against me." she chuckled. 

This time she _saw_ the scattering throngs and caught more than one pair of eyes looking incredulously at her before they vanished into whatever nearby doorway or alley they could find. It was strange, experiencing that, but it made sense considering who was escorting her.

Soon enough she started recognizing landmarks and pointed him down a crossroad toward a small apartment building, a squat little three-story affair.

"Mm. Maybe. Pardon if even hell cant take the bayou outa the boy! Though you make a passing belle." He gave her a pointed look over, a happiness in his eyes as he followed her like he was the one knowing the route. 

Turning an inquisitive look at the neighborhood she indicated. It was quaint, for Hell. "You _did_ steal a nice spot for yourself, hm. Far better than the public houses."

Well that charming asshole... She blushed brightly that time, her hand tightening on his arm slightly for a moment. It was strange to have practically no recollection of how they'd met and yet here he was essentially sweeping her off her feet.

Only when they got to the front door of her apartment did she pause and let slip a _most_ unladylike word.

"Oh, shit... I didn't grab my bag!" She dreaded having to deal with the nosy landlord but maybe there was a way around that, if she could find a hairpin. Or maybe they wouldn't even give her trouble if they saw her companion.

"Hm?" He blinked, noting the issue at once and biting his lip at her innocence. Releasing her he just used a claw to make a quick scritch on her doorknob, pressing it like a button when it glowed briefly. There was a click and the door swung open. "No matter, dear." 

Sweeping her inside before she could backtrack with any silly awkwardnesses gals made up about such things, looking to see what he had to work with and what may be conveniently 'lost' in transit.

The door opened with a faint squeak of the hinges onto a modest apartment that had seen better days, her fingers quickly finding the lightswitch by the door to illuminate the space. 

The foot of her bed could be seen around the corner of the apartment's L-shape, indicating a sleeping area. The longer "arm" held the combination kitchen and living space. The floors were carpet save the kitchen's peeling linoleum, and the carpet was worn from decades of use.

Her kitchen was tidy and, aside from a few dishes left in the sink, was spotless. A cared for set of cast iron was hung from the small wall-space beside the cabinets, with the exception of a Dutch Oven that resided on the stovetop. A small radio sat atop the humming refrigerator when she wanted for music, and should he have the desire to check he'd notice the station needle was already set to one of his.

The living space, however, revealed much more of his newest acquisition. The pair of bookshelves were overflowing. Fantasy novels, classics both old and new, true crime, even some reference texts--if one looked closely they could even see a copy of the Ars Goetica that was far too fancy for her to have acquired legally was tucked in amongst beat up paperbacks.

A threadbare loveseat was set next to the overflowing shelves with a convenient lamp and an aged rocking chair. Without the typical entertainment system demanding space, the room was homey and cozy without being overcrowded. A few pictures hung on the wall, showing a handful of other Sinners. Seems like they dragged her out every so often--one showed the group of four laughing with abandon on the patio of a café. Another was of May herself, hair decorated with the strange flowers of hell. She looked like a perfect forest fairy, her cheeks blushing slightly as her hair hung motionless in what would have been the breeze, her lips curled in a Mona Lisa smile, one hand raised to her face to brush a mischievous strand away as it rested eternally on her lip.

He made a short prowl of the place, leaving her behind. His claws ran over the back of the rocking chair, tipping it as he bent to peer at her photos with an inscrutable smile. The radio actually kicked to life when his steps took him too close, not unusual and he only glanced at it brightly when it did.

"Not often I see a modern gal without the stitchings of the new world laying about. What an old soul you are." Humming, he spun on the spot, waving about. "I'm fonder of you by the second! Now~" He watched her, looking at how misplaced yet not she looked in drab containment. "What to do."

Her eyes glanced up to the radio as it flicked on, filling the small apartment with music. She let him explore, certain he was curious to learn about her as she knelt by the door for a moment, undoing the straps of her heels and leaving them there before she wandered into the familiar apartment. She'd make no similar demands of him, of course.

The floor creaked under her soft steps, indicating her movement as she vanished around the corner to gather her necessities, letting him ponder whatever it was he was pondering.

Around that corner one would find her small bathroom and her single size bed, left unmade from the last time she'd been here. Her nightstand had yet more books on it, along with a small bedside lamp and a bottle of water. A window overlooked the brick wall of the neighboring building, but let enough sunlight in through the gauzy curtains not to make it feel totally claustrophobic, next to a simple wardrobe with the dried flower crown from the picture atop it.

Even if he was inquisitive he kept his distance from her bed and personals, more looking through her books and decor, picking up items to turn them about and set them back. Her copy of the Goetica was thumbed through, a hum in his throat at the embossed pages. That he snapped straight to his parlor for safe keeping.

He even glanced in her ice box, seeing she had truly meant he might spoil her just a smidge. 

"What do you think of cats?" He asked out of nowhere, not looking back to her as he instead found a calendar among her kitchen things, using a claw to update the passage of days she may be unaware of. Looking through her orderly home.

She paused a moment. _Cats? Where had that come from?_ With a slight shake of her head she resumed packing her essentials, calling back to him from around the corner.

"I don't mind cats. I grew up with dogs mostly but we had a few cats as well. Birds, too, though I always kind of secretly wanted a reptile of some sort. But my mother was terrified of them, so we stuck with the fur and feathers."

Her wardrobe creaked softly as it opened, trying not to spend too long gathering her things as she tucked them neatly into a beat-up old suitcase she'd found and kept for no real reason. It's not like she really went anywhere. But at least it was coming in handy now.

Before she returned around the corner she made sure to tuck the book on the top of her stack into her bag. She at least wanted that one to finish.

With a soft rustle she reappeared around the corner, tucking her hair behind her ear as she set the suitcase on the floor, for the moment watching him quietly to see what sparked his interest.

"Good to hear. I enjoy cats, hellish or otherwise. You might get along with the ones I've collected." He was filling air, musing and tapping about her place before noting she had finished. 

"All your memories packed up neatly?" He teased, enjoying the farce he'd created. Surely she was chaffing a bit to pack up and go, who wouldn't? Prancing back to her side he leaned to whisper conspiratorially. "We could always burn the place down if your neighbors were cold~"

She gave him the shocked expression he was undoubtedly angling for, still trying to figure out when he was joking. He was hard to read, unlike herself. But after a moment a mischievous grin spread across her face.

"Maybe just the landlord's place. I never did like him..." She smirked, before motioning for him to wait a moment and vanishing into the sleeping area again, delicately handling the dried-flower crown before she tucked it away into the suitcase, careful to arrange it to minimize the chance of it crumbling. She was nearly sad at the loss of her book collection but, no matter, she'd seen the collections in his home and she could always find other copies. The only remaining things she decided to keep was the small collection of photos on the wall, stacking them neatly before giving a final exam of the space.

"Yes, I think that's all now."

With her decision apparently made she crossed to the door and slipped back into those heels. Catching a glance at herself in the mirror on the back of the door she couldn't hold back the smile. Maybe she'd have to swap out her wardrobe after all.

"From landlord to Overlord, what an ambition you have, my dear!" When he walked past her packed things they disappeared, off into her room hands free. 

Passing her to the hall he tapped his cane there, waiting until she joined him with a tune in his throat, looking at the sinners that turned the corner, saw him, ducked back away. He could still hear their frantic heartbeats and inhaled fear, smiling fondly.

_How could he do that so easily?!_ she thought to herself as he brought a soft flush to her cheeks again for a moment. She gazed around a few moments longer until she heard the tap of his cane in the hall.

With a click of the lights going out she joined him again, already easily falling into place at his side for when he was ready to depart. She didn't bother locking the door. Some part of her knew it wasn't hers anymore from the moment that heat had encircled her heart. The memory of it lifted her fingers to her chest again, just for a moment before she glanced up at him.

He looked aside at the door, his shadow slipping away behind them into the abandoned room unseen. "Now, about this landlord you promised me. T'would be rude not to give notice!" He half bent beside her, eye level to poke her nose, malicious glee in the wink he gave her.

She laughed softly as he poked her nose and pointed down the hall toward a door just to the left of the main entrance. "He lives down there. Greasy sort. I think he has a thing for redheads, honestly. And not in the innocent way."

She grimaced and hugged herself slightly, remembering how her flesh had crawled as that tubby, greasy-haired demon had lingered much too closely, touched much too familiarly when she'd signed the papers and gotten her keys. She'd made a point never to get cornered by him, much to his apparent frustration.

A wicked gleam made his grin _stretch_. "Then go say _Hello_ darling." He pushed at her back a bit, raising his brows and chuckling. Then he was gone. Blackness where he was and then even that had slipped away, leaving her with the command.

That push nudged her forward a bit, turning to ask what exactly he meant. Only to find she was alone in the hall. The silence was suddenly odd after having grown used to the static that always accompanied him. 

With a soft noise of frustration, she tapped her way toward that door, stomach roiling as she knocked. In the unusual silence she nearly immediately heard the unpleasant creature within approaching (and then opening) the door, grimacing at the leer present on his features.

"And what do you want, sugar-tits?" he gruffed as he gave her a thorough looking-over, earning him a displeased stare as she crossed her arms. But this wasn't just to shield herself. Oh no. This was simple pride.

Tossing her head to flick her hair behind her, she watched him rub those greasy hands across his stained shirt. "I'm moving out. Your 'prime' apartment is open to rent again," she told him plainly, uncrossing her arms only to mime quotations in the air.

To the man's credit he seemed to actually understand the opportunity he had been presented. Stepping back he motioned her in quickly, mumbling out something about signing final papers before she left residence.

With a grimace of distaste she stepped over his threshold, quick to evade the hand that tried to "accidentally" brush her backside as he latched the door quietly behind him.

"Make yourself at home" he gruffed, pretending to rustle about for the paperwork as she carefully moved a stack of boxes out of a chair to sit down, her senses on high alert and growing nervous at the increasing absence of her benefactor but trying not to show it.

There was a soft flicker of the lights, like a power surge and an old radio the landlord owned in the other room kicked on. The shadows seemed darker after the lights settled, but Alastor wasn't _present_ , giving the man a chance to pick the severity of his day.

As the lights flickered and the radio kicked on, she relaxed slightly. He hadn't left her after all. Her landlord looked up at the sudden life from his radio, finally grabbing a sheaf of papers before he approached his intended prey again, grinning at her obvious discomfort. 

"Stay right there, sweetheart. I need to get a pen," he told her, pressing way too closely behind her to reach the mess of office supplies on the small desk. As distaste roiled within her, he finally took his opportunity, seizing the smaller woman by the hair and pulling her head back to look at him, forcing her body to arch in the seat. That lecherous grin was back as she tried to bite back the noise of pain from the hard yank to her scalp and her hands immediately flew to his wrist, electricity already crackling from her fingers. The contact with his wrist earned her a shout of pain, but it hadn't been enough as his free hand cuffed her on the temple, making her yelp and fall from the seat she'd occupied, clutching her head as the pain erupted behind her eyes.

"Stupid bitch... You're not leaving," he growled down at her, already contemplating how _nice_ it would be to have her trapped in his home finally, instead of teasing him from afar all the time like she'd been doing.

The lights flickered again, a moment of full darkness, and the Radio Demon was behind the man with a Cheshire grin that glowed as bright as his eyes. Not Alastor - the _Demon_.

" ~~My thoughts exactly~~ " He chuckled, and he mirrored the slime ball's move to grab a fist full of the back of his head, claws sinking under flesh in a terrible mockery of a face lift as he lifted and twisted him to his own height.

Her head still swimming slightly from the blow, she nevertheless froze when she heard that voice. Finally the last crack gave way and the memories flooded back. He'd _eaten_ her! GODS ALIVE HE'D EATEN HER ALIVE! It hadn't been just a dream after all.

She curled up under the table, hands pressed over her ears as she shook in fear, whimpering as all those memories flooded back at once. The mad waltz to that gruesome song, the fractured reality of his land and home. Even the gentleness and beauty of the illusion of the night scene before he-- _oh god_.

The Overlord looked over his prey, disgusted to the point his teeth didn't even part when he spoke, not wanting to taste the air the man gave off. The lights had not resumed, glowing eerily red in corners of the room as if he himself was casting reversed shadows across the furniture. 

" ~~So I heard you like red~~ ~" he snickered, and he spun to hurl the man bodily against the wall previously behind him. The small demon hit with a wet crunch, bones snapping at the force while the speed made his fleshy vessel pop in a splatter across the wall. Across the room and desk, a confetti of _red_. " ~~Let's see how much you've collected.~~ ”

Alastor didn't let him drop, catching him in a clawed grasp of sternum and fabric and flesh to keep him braced on the vertical surface, shredding limbs from him in raking sweeps of claws to toss what he pulled off behind him. Aware of May cowering and unconcerned at the moment.

The impact of her former landlord startled her out of that flood of memories and she cried out in fear. Her eyes caught sight of the blood running down the wall, the sheer amount making her blanch. 

Drawing her knees up to her chest and hugging around her legs, she buried her face in her skirts, rocking as she sobbed quietly under the table, unable to block out the sounds of ripping fabric and tearing flesh as the lecher was dealt with, _gruesomely_.

Gurgling sounds that may have been screams or whimpers were all the outward indication the pervert was still alive and feeling, his carver chuckling as he rendered him down to soggy meat and gristle. It was so easy to tear someone apart and it never grew old, the wet tearing and pops and squish on his gloves. The demon relished it, thrilled by the mess and stench of iron on the air even if it was such a _waste_.

Finally, before the bastard truly died, he tore the man's ribcage open with a screech of splintering bone and plucked out his erratic little heart. _That_ he ate with a low groan, eyes closed in enjoyment. The room went black as he did, all shadows high and surveying their Master's pleasure as he dropped the remaining demon jelly from his claws. Not enough to call a corpse.

The thrum of static in the air changed note, heavier and darker, as he waited out the reactions of his action, and then he looked back to the desk as the room relit to normalcy. Walked across the running puddle with his taps, and waited beside the table. "Time to come out, Miss May~"

She curled tighter as she heard him approach. She'd stopped crying eventually and now was just in a state of shock, staring quietly at his legs and feet as he stood so close to her makeshift hiding place.

The sound of his voice, back to that normal tone, made her freeze up under that table, earning him a wordless noise of fear and distress. 

Finally her voice drifted from under the table, sounding like a child terrified in the dark.

"Y... You..." She swallowed back the words around that lump of fear in her throat, choking back a threatening sob as she curled her fists by her temples, still rocking as she tried to force the words free.

He waited, the hum around him slowly drifting to an easy tune. Folded one hand behind his back after flicking the excess gore off and using the other to pull threads of the viscera and gels of blood from the front of his coat. Patiently aware she needed a moment. Any forcing on his part might be what it took to shatter her mind entirely and he certainly didn't want _that_.

Strangely, that easy tune helped despite the deep trauma she'd just experienced. Her rocking slowly stopped as her breathing finally returned to normal. She was bound to him, she realized, and he wouldn't leave here without her.

Shifting awkwardly, she slowly crawled from under the table, pointedly averting her gaze from the mess that was once her landlord. Climbing to her feet, she wiped her cheeks, her eyes still puffy from crying. The poor thing was a mess, hair mussed and tangled from the harsh pull, face flushed. In an effort to distract herself from the memories, she worked her dress back into order, almost bursting into tears all over again as she noticed a slight tear on the shoulder from her struggle. Obviously her control was fragile at best, but she was trying.

Every motion was watched, his ears trained on her sniffles and small unconscious sounds, taking in her state. Reached for her slowly, he paused with his loose fist in her view just to let her prepare herself before he raised her chin on his knuckle. Half lidded, he gave her a small gentle smile.

He could have snapped himself clean, could have hidden it _all_ from her, but she was his and that meant he respected a certain honesty. Sustaining the reality of being a monster. 

"Good girl, Mary." A murmur, shifting to run his claws gently over her hair, fixing the tangles in soothing strokes.

Fresh tears welled at that show of utter gentleness and that kind smile. They spilled over silently as he fixed her hair soothingly, shivering as her sensitive scalp reacted to his touch.

Soon she again resembled her tidy self, aside from the signs of her crying fit and that small tear in her dress. She desperately wanted to feel someone embrace her just then to keep her from feeling so close to shattering, but she knew he seemed to dislike others touching him. 

That soft praise though, it brought a tiny smile to her lips as she sniffled and wiped her eyes again, trying desperately to pull herself together for him--and herself. After a slight delay, her voice finally returned, giving him a soft "thank you" despite everything.

"Ah, there's a smile!" He wrinkled his nose at her, doting and pleased. Brushing her shoulder he seemed to 'wipe off' her disarray, wrapping the same arm around her waist to tug her into a dancer's hold. 

"How about something to drink?" He asked, but shadow was already encasing them to spit them into a dim lit music bar. Oddly devoid of many people, dark colored lights and the haze of fragrant smoke in the air. Not a live band bar, but a jukebox was playing swing in the corner while a few patrons enjoyed luxury booths with small talk and drinks. A relaxing joint opposed to the more raucous varieties of speakeasy establishments. And one that would hide her distress from viewers.

It was notable no one batted an eye at their sudden presence, the bartender only looking over with a cocked brow as he worked, a few murmurs of his given name in a tone of notice and not fright.

Her smile widened as he helped finish pulling her together again. Feeling his arm wrap around her was oddly comforting, even if it wasn't a hug so much as guidance again. She blinked a bit as she suddenly found herself not in the blood-soaked apartment but a quiet bar.

Still not fully used to the way he seemed to clip in and out of reality, she glanced about a bit before nodding. A drink sounded exactly like what she needed.

"That sounds amazing, thank you" she answered softly, her voice starting to sound more certain now. Trying to find a more even keel again.

"Of course!" Cleaner now, leaving the mess behind, he beamed and pulled her to the bar. Lifting her by the waist onto a stool like a gentleman before leaning against the polished wood himself. 

"Hu~usker~ come tend the lady, please." He gestured with a flick, the surly demon rolling his eyes as he came over and began pouring Alastor a drink without even answering him. "Whatcha want, girlie?" He gruffed at May, doing what he could to ignore the Overlord after passing him the glass.

She followed his pull to the bar, letting out a soft squeak as she was lifted with ease into the barstool, her legs tucking automatically to rest the toes of her shoes on the cross-beam.

Still not running at quite full strength, she glanced over at Alastor's drink, making the simple choice of "whatever he's having". Really at this point she didn't care what version of alcohol she received. She just needed _something_ to steady herself and encourage her to relax a little. Nothing like ignoring major mental trauma and smoothing it over with alcohol, right?

Husk paused what he was doing, really the bar was clean enough, and squinted at her. Then Alastor. "No. That shit would kill ya." He rolled his eyes but he turned and mixed her a black Russian instead, passing that over with a clink of claws on glass.

"Here, that takes the edge off his bullshit." Huffing, he glared at Alastor for snickering at him, flipping him off to lean back against the shelves behind him and look anywhere else. 

"Miss May~~ remember what I asked you?" Alastor singsonged, tipping his head towards Husk with another chuckle.

She tilted her head at the teasing question. It took her fractured mind a moment to remember the last things he'd really asked her. Seeing the tip of his head, she looked over to the grouchy bartender, unable to stop herself from chuckling quietly at the extended middle finger. 

It took a second--the wings threw her off a bit--but finally the lightbulb lit up and she looked over at Alastor with a grin that could have rivaled his own.

"No..." She giggled softly, lifting one hand to her lips to stifle the laugh that threatened to burst free in the relatively quiet bar. "Is he...?"

Husk couldn't help but listen in, one ear tilted their way as his scowl grew deeper. "D'fuck you laughing about?" He glared between them, stiffening when Alastor crooked a finger at him. "Am I what?" 

"Come here and I'll _tell_ you~" It was cheap bait, and Husk was hesitant to take it but another 'come hither' finger gesture made him sigh and slouch over. "What, kid?"

Leaning in, in a tone only for the three of them, Alastor scritched under Husk's jaw. "My good little kitty~" And then he ducked back quicker than light to avoid the clawful swipe that accompanied a growl, Husk's wings snapping open as he hissed " _Fucker!_ "

Well that explosion of temper and Alastor's knowing reaction did it. The laugh burst out fully. She hadn't even touched her drink but that explosion of laughter seemed to help stabilize her.

That ever-mischievous lock of hair was swept onto her cheek by the breeze of Husk's angry swipe, the so-recently mentally destroyed girl wiping tears away again. This time, though, it was from the riotous laughter that bubbled free from her, in spite of Husk's angry glare in their direction.

"You... You never told me you meant _that_ " she laughed out breathlessly, before finally snatching up the glass and taking a good drink of the dark liquid inside, still chuckling quietly as she pulled the glass away again.

Feeling a little guilty though, she did shoot Husk an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry... It's... I'm not laughing at you." She dared not look at Alastor for risk of collapsing into laughter again. "It's a long story," she told the winged feline.

Alastor certainly was laughing though, taking his drink back as he settled on the seat beside May, still snickering.

"Ya might not be, but fuckit. Laugh." Husk grumbled, reaching behind him to grab a bottle of whiskey, drinking straight from the neck. "Need what ya get round Al." He pointed at the demon who just wiggled his fingers at him, accepting that.

"D'fuck you doing with a gal anyway, kid?" He pinned Alastor with a glare, fur rising when it only earned him an innocent smile and a shrug. "I like her! Does there need to be a reason?" 

"Yes! You evil fuck!" Husk snapped back, but even that looked like it was exhausting him. Lounging back again he looked at May. "Ya shouldn't be here, girlie."

As the two men sniped at each other, Alastor obviously enjoying it much more than Husk, May busied herself with her drink and enjoyed the swing tunes from the jukebox, smiling softly at Alastor's admission.

But Husk's words drew her attention and she remembered again that unseen trap she'd walked herself into. "It's complicated," she answered, sensing the hostile bartender was really just looking out for her. "He..." She glanced over at Alastor a moment, uncertain if she should spill the whole truth. "We have an... Arrangement" she finally finished the thought, glancing over at the red-suited agent of chaos she'd bound herself to, trying to gauge his reaction as she traced the rim of the glass with a fingertip.

The bored look on the chimera's face melted to wide eyed horror and he whirled on Alastor, mouth working silently and baring fangs as he pointed one of those talons at the Overlord. Alastor stared back, innocent and unimpressed. Sipped his drink.

"You-you are _such_ a bastard!" Husk worked out after a moment, deflating with a groan at the heavy lidded smile he got.

"You've said as much." He agreed, in no way defending his actions. "But this was an easy one, nothing unfair!" Alastor grinned, turning a shrewd look to May. "Right, my dear?" 

It didn't bother him if she wanted to confess, not in this climate. Perhaps if she went sobbing to strangers for freedom or something he would feel a _bit_ betrayed. Or if she was a gossip. But this was just a chat amongst friends!

Her claws tapped along the sides of the glass as she gave a small smile, nodding in agreement with Alastor. It was true, he hadn't _really_ tricked her into it. In the end the choice had been hers. 

The glass lifted to her lips again, downing more of the dark, coffee-flavored drink. The vodka bit on the way down, but the gentle heat that followed soon after only served to remind her quietly of the mark that magic had left on her heart.

"He's helped me..." She protested softly of Husk's accusations to the deer demon. "And, I can't explain it but, I like him as much as I fear him. I feel like he respects me, in some strange way."

She spoke softly, but the truth was there, demented though it might sound. Another drink and only a trace of that heady beverage remained, the ice rattling softly as she set it back down.

The feline visibly wilted at her admission, not arguing that possibility which was telling enough, looking entirely too tired of the whole thing.

"That's...good for you girlie." He took a long drink, visibly draining the hard booze by inches before he tilted his head at her. "'Nother?" Alastor had already tapped his knuckles on the bar, signaling his own needed a top off in a code they shared. Watching May with a fond smile even though he hadn’t confirmed or denied her words.

"Yeah, yeah fucker." Husk poured for him from a bottle kept off shelf, glowering. "You drive me to drink, Al." 

"But _I_ drink because of _you!_ That can't be right." Was quipped back and like clockwork Husk flipped him off, hiding his small smile.

She shook her head and signaled she was satisfied by covering her glass momentarily with her delicate fingers. The last thing she needed now was the possibility of recovering from another blackout.

She was happy to let Alastor have his fun, rocking the glass slightly to watch the liquid pool back and forth and run over the ice. The way they slipped right back into that give-and-take made her smile a bit, bracing her elbow on the bar and resting her cheek on her fist while her other hand kept up that slow tilting with the glass, lost after a moment in her own thoughts about nothing really.

The guys bantered easily, heckling each other with barbs that found no snag, subtly updating each other on life and things best said in less than forward ways. Husk got the gist of the last week pretty quickly, a feeling for why the pretty girl looked like there was the weight of Hell on her mind. Catching more than he knew even Alastor did, deranged as he was. Which, speaking of-

"When was the last time you slept, Al?" He interrupted some inane chatter about what to call a 'triple bicentennial' and there was a soft skip of a record as Alastor froze. "Uhh...I'm not sure!" He laughed, leaning back with one hand on his face, trying to wave off Husk who was having none of it.

Grabbing that wrist, Husk didn't flinch at the automatic snarl Alastor spat, tugging him almost nose to nose to stare at him hard. Ignoring the bared fangs. "You smell like roadkill and insomnia, brat. Go the fuck to bed." Even deadpan and groused, it was a command.

Alastor hackled, eyes flashing black but Husk _didn't_ _care_ or release him. "But sleep is _your_ territory. Wouldn't want to deprive you~"

"Alastor. _Sleep_." The cat snapped and...Alastor backed down. Shoulders dropping as his eyes slid aside with a short huff. All aggression fading. "I'll sleep, promise. I've just been _distracted_ , Husker." Released at the word 'promise', he busied himself inspecting his sleeve, not looking at the man that looked at him, disappointed. "Holdin' ya to it. You're a dick when you're being stupid."

The growing level of tension in their voices pulled her wandering thoughts back to reality again, that glass stilling on the bar as she watched Husk brashly not only give the Radio Demon an order, but then to hear the man promise to follow it? She could hardly believe it. They must have formed an intense friendship indeed for Husk to be able to get away with that intact.

As it was she found her own energy flagging as well. She'd had quite a day after all. Resurrecting from death, trapping herself in a demon deal, moving, and listening to the grisly murder of her now-late landlord during a mental breakdown. The poor girl, resilient as she was, was bound to need some sleep after that.

Reaching over, she laid a hand lightly on Alastor's arm to catch his gaze, careful not to muss the fabric of his sleeve. "Maybe he's right, Alastor. We _both_ have had quite the day," she reminded him, trying to give him the easy out of needing to escort her back to his home.

Red eyes snapped to her, the quick position of his claws near threatened to _remove_ her hand, but he paused and flattened them. Patting her fingers against his arm with a sharp smile. "See what you've done, old boy? Turning her on me too! Haha!" 

But he stood, draining his drink with a saucy look at the cat who only crossed his arms and leaned back against the shelves. "I'll just be taking you home then, my dear." The sour note on his voice made the static thick, but he was still polite in pulling May off the stool so her dress went unmussed, saluting Husk with two claws which earned him a grunt. 

No longer in the mood to walk he grabbed her by that same hand and shadowed them to his foyer, barely looking at the gal at his side in the sting of his chastisement.

She froze like the metaphorical deer in the headlights as she saw that sudden flash of movement, heart dropping as she was certain she was about to lose that hand. The resultant pat on her fingers did little to assuage that nervousness. She certainly didn't want to end up the same way as her old landlord.

That lingering fear raced a shudder through her frame as he helped her down, barely even given time to blink before he deposited them back in the foyer where all this had started what seemed like years ago.

She didn't dare move, not yet. He seemed on the edge of snapping. But he said he liked her bravery, so she took the plunge and delicately squeezed his gloved hand in her own, coaxing him to look back to her as she spoke softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. And Husk. He seems to want to look out for you. I'm... I'm not sure how to handle all this yet. What should I do?"

It got him moving, squeezing back as he led her towards the upper floors even though it took him a few minutes more to decide on his tone. "Handle it how you will, my dear. Be happy or cry, call me what you will, and tread as heavy as you dare. All I ask is you be yourself, just as I am." He'd taken her to her door, unsure if she recognized it as such yet. Turning to look at her with only a scant but real smile. "I'd rather you anger me, than lose a part of yourself in my care." Smiling wider just made him _look_ as tired as Husk called him on, something often easily hidden. 

"Good night, Miss May." He gestured to the door, no move to touch it but loitering. Perhaps just selfishly wanting to hear whatever reaction she had that he'd moved _all_ of her collections to the furnishings of her room. Even that quaint chair.

She felt a large sense of relief wash over her at his words, and she let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding back until then.

As he gestured to the door, she reached out and took the handle but paused before opening it, her gaze returning to his own. "You are going to sleep, aren't you?" She hadn't been aware of his state until Husk had mentioned it, but if she was going to be bound to him she at least wanted him taking care of himself.

It seemed she was silently demanding an answer before she would enter the room-- _her room_ she reminded herself, and one that needed to be unpacked she presumed.

It made him wince in a chuckle, tilting almost sheepishly. "Yes, yes. I'll lie down. I made a promise and I'm a man of my word." Holding up a finger, he winked. "Just cannot promise how successful I'll be~ no rest for the wicked you know!" Or the mad, but he rarely admitted that part aloud. He'd lived with his deficiencies for 150 years, no matter what he knew it wouldn't kill him. Even if self care often fell to the lowest priority. 

"If you need me, come wake me. I'll listen, or even make you some vanilla milk. My Dad always did that when I couldn't sleep," she chuckled, "worked like a charm. But I'll do whatever I can to help you."

She extended the invitation, even though it was his own home. He seemed so formal about those things that she figured he might need it.

Apparently satisfied, she opened her door and, after a bit of searching, found the switch for the light. Her hands flew to her mouth, letting out a happy noise as she saw _all_ of her things had made the journey.

Without thinking, she spun and embraced him tightly while voicing ecstatic thanks, only realizing her mistake a few seconds later and quickly releasing him as she stepped back to a more respectable distance, hands clasped behind her.

"Sorry... I didn't think," she said apologetically. "Thank you for moving all this here. It's very generous of you," she smiled warmly--something she seemed to be doing more the last couple days.

It was taking him more computing power than he could summon to handle her sudden thought he'd need _help_ from her to rest, just a rising static in his thoughts behind a fixed smile. 

So it caught him off guard when he had an arm full of woman, catching her stiffly with wide eyes and a whine in the air like a light bulb about to burst. What was-- what?

"That is...quite alright dear." He covered _fairly_ well, chuckling mildly uncomfortably. "Just wanted to see you smile~" And he spun, waving over his shoulder to retreat to his own room. It felt _strange_ to be called such, touched such, and maybe a scalding shower would fix his head. He did _not_ smell like roadkill. Damn Husk.

Suppressing a giggle as she watched him leave, she nevertheless enjoyed that little bit of pride in knowing that, just for a second and completely by mistake, _she'd_ finally flustered _him_. It was a thought that would probably keep her smiling for days. It wasn't a chink in the armor she'd abuse, but it was nice to know there was at least one.

The room already felt nearly like home now that her things had all been magicked here, and that familiar sensation helped her fall asleep all the more quickly.

The shoes had been tucked away and the dress had been hung back up--she'd ask about the domestics tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off, wearing a now strangely foreign-feeling shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you leave comments I will reply. 
> 
> Still following my whim here for updates, which is subject to my broken sense of time. 
> 
> Isn't May just a delight?


	3. Out of Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a bad way to spend a day for anyone.  
> Well, maybe this one chap.

Heaven only knows how she didn't have a night full of horrific dreams. Perhaps she was simply so exhausted she slept, in his words from the day before, "like the dead". All she knew is this time she awoke to a familiar room and remembered exactly how it had arrived there. It was enough to bring a smile to her face again, that generosity he seemed so strangely awkward about.

Soon her bed was tidied and her things fully unpacked. She was almost disappointed she didn't have another dress to surprise him with as she pulled on a set of slacks and a blouse adorned with delicate polka dots before working her hair into a loose style reminiscent of the victory rolls she'd seen pictures of. At least it felt classier than t-shirts and jeans.

With a soft click she opened her door, forgoing her shoes this time as she padded quietly in the direction of the kitchen after glancing at his door. Perhaps he had gotten some sleep after all and she could surprise him with a meal.

When Alastor made a promise, even a flippant one, he held himself to it. After Husk's standardly rude reminders he'd gone through the motions to nearly boil himself back to immaculate, fluffy cleanliness, took a sedative tonic that may kill a weaker sinner outright, and then went truly to bed. Not just laying dressed on a mattress listening to music, he ducked to his den and stripped off clothes, control and his public face and slept. 

Thank hell for home brewed potions because it worked and he easily overslept the girl. It showed in the house, the fake blue sky outside resetting to a morning sun, the distortion in the air easing to a gentle hum. Even as the radios still played it was cleaner and crisper.

Finding the house quiet and still, she figured he was probably still abed, or at least undertaking a quiet pastime. Somehow she knew he was nearby at least.

The tile of the kitchen was cool underfoot as she explored a bit, figuring out the new kitchen and the massively expanded selection of both equipment and ingredients she could work with. Yankee girl though she was she could at least cook up a filling breakfast. 

Much like the rich smells of yesterday she soon had the house filled with the scents of morning, the coffee maker brewing away with that dark liquid as she plated up a meal for her host. Steaming scrambled eggs cooked up with garlic and peppers. She'd even found cheese and managed a batch of cheesy grits for him.

Promising herself she'd tidy up the sink later and wishing she had the ability to just snap the mess away, she retrieved a tray and a large urn for the coffee. He seemed like a man who would like it black and strong so she forewent any additives.

Soon she found herself facing that red wood door bearing the full tray. Carefully placing it on a nearby side table she smoothed out her blouse and brushed a few errant strands of hair from her brow before delivering a polite knock to see if he was awake just yet. Hopefully he was.

He was not but that remedied soon enough. Sleep had been lightening to the lazy doze of comfort for some time, faintly aware of the motions of someone in his home. It was a guarded sense that may never drop, even if he wasn't bothered by her presence. 

Crawling from his nest he reconfigured himself as he moved through his rooms, back in proper form and just idly snapping a black button down and slacks on. Forgoing shoes or gloves and frankly not online enough to even know where any eyewear was, it made him quiet as he moved and squinting in his right eye. It was more important to run his claws through his hair so it wasn't entirely mussed in a halo. Perhaps not his usual standards of perfection but still bypassing what so many slobs thought was public face these days.

Opening the door he smiled lazily, momentarily distracted by the rush of scents that made him _ache_ before blinking at her. "Good Morning, dearie."

Her own warm smile met his lazy one and she gracefully hefted the heavy tray. He definitely looked not quite fully put together, but it was obvious at least he was functional. Her eyes definitely caught sight of his bare feet and hands. After such formality from him it was almost shocking to see, but she knew better than to comment on it.

"You seemed so exhausted last night. I thought you might want some breakfast."

Her arms were definitely feeling the weight of the food but she'd be damned if she let it slip an inch. "I'm sorry I didn't bring any bacon. I'd thought about it but..." She chuckled awkwardly, remembering the voraciousness of his feasting on her the other night. "Well, I just wasn't sure _who_ it might have been, and I just couldn't handle cooking it. But, at least I made grits and coffee for you."

"Thank you." Genuinely surprised and pleased. Looking her over, and her kind offering, as she spoke his smile gained warmth until he was chuckling. "Well, I doubt you made it into that pantry, so don't fret. I'll show you those ropes later~" 

Squinting at her, he opted to lift the coffee from the tray, turning aside to gesture she could follow him because honestly he was only a bit more stable than she was. Just rather good at hiding it. "Come set that down, dear." He turned to lead her, waving a hand that clicked his more private doors shut, bedroom and den both, to go set the decanter down on a small table in the modest sitting room he kept for himself. Much like his study but more, scattered with tools of his various trades in neat order. An uncanny amount of stitched cloth dolls keeping each other company on shelves and books of clearly contraband natures around them. Considering he could live like a king, it was modestly homey and vintage from the simple furnishings to the occasional vase of mixed red and blue flowers set to catch the eye. It looked out of place how many blackened footprints were burnt into the wood floor, half hidden under carpet, and how many weren't foot prints but huge clawed hooves. 

"Did I really look so tired?" He winced his grin, patting around a shelf through hand tools to find a pair of pince-nez that would keep him from gaining a headache.

The look of relief that washed over her face must have been obvious. At least now she knew if she stuck to the regular kitchen she'd know it was a _what_ and not a _who_ she was consuming. But, he'd show her...? That made her shiver a bit, unable to picture herself like that.

She followed him in as he clicked those doors shut, sliding the tray onto the table and shaking out her arms a bit before she set his silverware out and poured him a mug of the coffee, placing it perfectly above the plate with the handle ready for grabbing.

"I've had my fair share of sleepless nights, you know. I know the signs but until Husk said something I wasn't certain I was seeing them," she answered smoothly, careful to soothe what seemed to be a sore spot in his ego as she did.

As he patted about and put on the legless frames, she took in the surroundings. The dolls she recognized from that trip so long ago and was careful not to touch. She did, however, run a fingertip along the petals of one flower, leaning in to smell it briefly with a small smile before her bare foot landed squarely inside of those imprinted tracks.

Looking down, she saw her foot dwarfed by the monstrous track and she paled slightly, shifting smoothly away from the rough dip in the wood to browse the books--such a different collection than she'd seen before. A familiar one caught her eye and she smirked, arching an eyebrow as she turned to grin at him.

"Stealing from a thief now, are we?" she teased, the tone obviously playful and not at all accusatory.

"I don't much care to sleep, it's a waste of time and-" he sighed, sitting himself down to the meal. "Honestly I forget." It was mumbled, trying to laugh it off behind a sip of coffee that made him shiver happily. When was the last time anyone did this for him? Polite but hungry he watched her inspect, using her turned back to inhale his breakfast in pieces. 

"Mmm. I stole the thief, isn't that better?" He winked back at her, quickly waking back to his usual humor with someone to pluck him from the static. "It's a lovely treasure, curious where you came across that."

A soft blush rose to her cheeks at his retort and wink. Yes, that was true, he had. Waving off the question, she came over and joined him at the table even though he had already inhaled that breakfast. 

"Oh... Little bookstore other side of the Pentagram. I think it got destroyed in the last extermination though." She smiled at the signs of that ravaged plate. Apparently her guess had been right. 

"A shame, really. The owner was blind as the bat he looked like. I'm glad you like it," she finished, gifting him the tome with the simple phrase.

Sitting back Alastor saluted with his refilled mug, taking more time with the coffee than he did the meal. "I do. I collect and enjoy looking into the religions outside my own that trickle into Hell. The Goetia are a bit stingy about letting a man like myself into their libraries after all." He laughed, taking her offer even though it hardly mattered.

"I may have to take you shopping then, let your fingers wander. Might be entertaining." Now that he was alert he surreptitiously recovered himself, the dark skin of his hands suddenly dark leather, feet covered. Contemplating his plans for the day. 

"This was very nice. Lovely to enjoy your skill in a kitchen, dear." His compliments for the unexpected kindness and truly, he enjoyed it. "I'd not at all be against you playing house wife again if you like~" There was no mistaking the tease in his purr, even if he was serious in permission.

She perked up at the idea of going out again with him. It definitely was odd to be encouraged to that behavior though, even after so many years in hell. 

Idly tracing the grain in the tabletop with a clawtip, she smiled up at him as he praised her cooking. He definitely seemed more stable now than before. The sleep must have done him good.

The last bit though, purred out in such a playful tease, obviously struck a large button as it seemed like her entire face flushed at once, spreading all the way into her ears. Her gaze noticeably shifted away as she tried to conceal that flustered expression by resting her cheek on her palm in an attempt to look more relaxed than she was.

"I'm glad you liked it" she answered shyly, cheeks still burning at the idea of even getting to _play_ at such a role. "And, I would enjoy a shopping trip," she was sounding a bit more even again. 

"I love that dress and I wouldn't mind at all having more of them. If that's not too bold of me to suggest," she smiled softly, gazing a moment from the corner of her eye, not quite ready to look him dead on again just yet. She just hoped he wouldn't mind footing any bill. It's not like she'd exactly been flush with cash after all.

"Bold, to suggest looking your best? Never!" He gestured wide, eyes curling as he drank in her blushing modesty. Such a little doll. "It suited you perfectly. It'd be a delight to spin you in skirts of your choice." 

Humming, he tapped his nails on the table to an erratic beat, ever a fidget. "Though I may have to fit you a dressing room if I get carried away. It's been some time since I housed a lady so pardon if I'm rusty. The only gal I've hosted tends to run the place like her own." He shrugged, snapping the dishes away to the kitchen.

As he snapped the dishes away, she stood. "I should probably finish tidying downstairs then," she smiled, still blushing warmly. She moved as if to leave but turned again, reaching out hesitantly. Her fingers hovered a moment as if deciding if she'd take the risk before settling them gently on his wrist, just where the line of his sleeve met the glove.

Her eyes had returned to his now, for once gazing down at him from his seated position. It was an odd reversal for her to experience.

Putting the thought aside she smiled warmly and finally spoke.

"I know I'm tied to you with this deal, and I have no business assuming you'd need my help at all but..." She paused, having to fight past the habitual meekness to get the words to come out. "Please, if you need anything, and I mean anything, I'm here for it. Even if I end up on your table again."

She swallowed nervously, shifting slightly as she recalled the indescribable sensation of his claws buried within her or that awful pain when he'd torn her liver free. It amazed her that she could even accept that idea, but here she was, voicing it to the infamous Radio Demon himself.

Her serious tone made him sit and consider her silently, mirth draining from his eyes. There was nothing to mock in such a heartfelt offer, and he wouldn't disrespect that. But he'd test it. 

Slowly he stood, close enough he had to tip his jaw against his chest to look down at her. His claws feathered on her hair, slipping an errant piece behind her ear before he bent to speak directly into it. Quiet and lacking any radio static. "I'll be sure to remember that. Because you will."

Then he straightened and turned with a soft pardon under his breath to go excuse himself to one of his rooms, closing the door behind him in clear dismissal.

She felt that bravery weakening as he rose and approached closer than he ever had before, but she managed to stay rooted to the spot even as her heart pounded in her chest from the way his eyes pinned her in place. A shiver raced through her as he fixed that misplaced lock of hair and leaned in to speak directly into her ear, hardly even breathing as she fought the urge to turn and flee.

And then he was gone with a soft click of that door closing behind him. She wanted desperately to sink into his chair at the now-empty table and collect herself but the dismissal had been obvious. 

So, shakily, she exited the room and closed that antler-marked door behind her quietly before crumpling to the floor of the hallway, pulling her knees to her chest again as she gasped for breath.

She wasn't sure exactly how long she remained there but her muscles ached when she finally uncurled, finally winding her way to the kitchen to begin tidying up to the sound of the radio, leaving him with his thoughts upstairs and wondering if she'd just stepped into an even deeper trap.

With May safely occupied and likely enjoying some peace away from him Alastor finished grooming himself for the day, or days - whatever - and slipped off from his home to handle tasks he had let slip his mind. Other contracts to check on, a few ordered items to pick up after putting vendors in their place. Swapping labels on all the bottles of Husk's private bar to repay him for the odd thoughts of 'caretaking' the old man had put in May's head. 

He didn't need a keeper, or a nanny. He hadn't even needed a wife when he had one and even if he was still smiling purely on the fuel of a good morning greeting it was absurd to think he needed anything. And perhaps a few hours of smell testing and relabeling bottles would suit Husk good to remember that. 

When he finally came home it was midafternoon and he trotted through the front door with a jaunt in his step, the radios all switching frenetically to the same jazzy tune in his head. "Honey~ I'm home!" He laughed because if he was tormented by the joke he might as well share!

She knew he was home the moment the radio had suddenly changed its tune, even before she heard that ironically domestic call ring through the house. In his absence she'd finished cleaning the kitchen, the items washed, dried, and returned as closely as she could remember to their previous locations.

She'd eventually found her way back into that study to read. After the horrors her mind had dealt with recently, suddenly those macabre trophies didn't disturb her so much. 

Marking her place in her book, she set it aside and uncurled with a faint grunting stretch from the armchair he'd placed her into that first night. It seemed she'd adopted it as her own during his time away.

Still barefoot, she padded into view and leaned against the doorway with her arms crossed loosely. As he trotted in and announced himself, she found herself unable to help the smile that formed at that energetic and ridiculous greeting.

"And welcome home to you too, darling" she smirked, playing along into the joke with a teasing tone.

He crossed to her with a skip, lifting her by the waist in a twirl that had her head above his own with a cackle. "Oh, so sweet! You'll set this black heart beating, my Mayflower~"

Spinning them until his laughter subsided he set her gently down, talking with his hands as he strode to his study with full expectations she'd follow. "I got you something~ for when we go out. Things so we may get you things as I did promise you shopping. Have you had a nice morning? I did! Quite productive at least, it made me smile~"

That pet name made her smile and blush softly as she ducked her gaze and fussed with a non-existent lock of hair that apparently needed tucking behind her ear. There he went again with that dizzying swing between terrifying her and utterly charming her.

A soft squeal escaped her lips as he lifted her, steadying herself with a soft grip on his shoulders as he spun them with mad glee. Staggering slightly as he set her back down, she shook the dizziness aside before following him back into the study. His energy was contagious, and she couldn't repress the smile that pulled at her lips.

"Things? What do you mean?" she asked with open curiosity once she could wedge a word in edgewise, adjusting her blouse back into order. It's not like she'd seen anything appear inexplicably and he hadn't carried anything in that she'd seen. Knowing him he had a trick up his sleeve though, more than likely both of them.

Going to his desk he moved aside a few slim items that certainly hadn't been there last she looked, holding up a red envelope and matching, slim red box he handed to her with a wink. 

"The two most necessary things I believe. Especially if I'm going to let you out of the house! Which reminds me, do you have one of those new cellular phones kids carry these days? The tappy ones? I'd see that too if you do." He flapped a hand at her, brushing off his own words and leaning his hip on the desk to watch her.

She took the objects with curiosity, glancing at them, then back up at him in confusion. But at his request for her phone, she set them aside and went to the hooks by the front door. After a moment of digging, her fingers retrieved a smartphone long drained of battery after so many days of being ignored--probably it had died during her own recovery from his feast. So she also dug out the charging block and cord. At least she always kept those around.

As she returned to the study, she handed him the phone, stacked atop the power block with the umbilicus of the cord connecting them as it powered on. He'd find there was no need for a password, as she kept very little beyond music and some pictures on it.

As she settled in the armchair, she picked up the matched red objects again. Glancing up at him with a curious grin, she slid a claw into the seal of the envelope, slicing it open neatly with a practiced ease. The box for now was left balanced on her knees.

He took the phone with a hand obviously unpracticed in holding one, glancing it over for a moment before using his claws to just pop the faceplate off entirely. Watching the screen minutely, he tore out the antennae and speaker, burning them in the palm of his hand before retrieving replacements from his desk in a neat box of similar devices. 

It was quick, surgical, and except for a warning alert on the phone as it was temporarily without signal he was able to snap it all back together and set it on the table beside her as he sat and watched her investigate. 

All that was in the envelope was a sleek plastic card, black and featureless except for his insignia embossed in shinier black on one side, an official royal Crest in apple red under the magnetic strip on the other.

She watched curiously as he performed that unexpected alteration to her phone before dropping her gaze back to the envelope she held. Probably wanting to keep track of his newest contract, she figured.

As she pulled the card free of the envelope her jaw dropped. He was just _giving_ her this? Her thumb traced over his insignia before she looked up to him, apparently completely speechless for a moment.

"Really? You... Just like that?" She asked in amazement, turning it over a few times in her hands as if convinced one (or both) of those symbols of power would evaporate before her eyes. 

She'd nearly forgotten the larger package on her lap and, still unable to truly believe she'd fallen into his graces so quickly, she set the card aside for the moment. Her fingers fumbled slightly with the box before she managed to work the lid free, nearly vibrating in excitement.

"Just like that." He parroted, grinning self indulgently at her confusion. Not everyone could identify an Overlord black card but he knew she saw enough to realize the gift. No one could call him for lack of providing for what was his, and he rarely used his own funds. 

Claws supporting his chin, nearly biting them not to giggle, he watched her open the box. A silver stiletto dagger, visibly sharp as a razor, about the length of her hand. The handle was ornate and ladylike but comfortable, complete with a sturdy sheath she could secure it in.

Delicately, oh-so-carefully, she plucked that small but deadly weapon from the box. It fit her hand perfectly, and she couldn't help but admire the way that the blade caught the light. She may not have been an expert on knives like he was but she could acknowledge the fine craftsmanship obviously displayed in the well-balanced piece.

"Alastor..." she breathed out in awe, the word just loud enough to reach his ears.

Not wanting to risk another scar on her fingers just yet, she carefully sheathed the blade and set it next to the card and her altered phone. Thankfully this time she resisted the urge to envelop him in a hug, but her grin when she looked to him easily rivaled his, if less toothy.

"How can I ever repay you?" she asked, her hands folding in her lap--not really knowing what to do with them in absence of her usual method of embracing the giftee.

The demon's ears flicked at his name, holding that tone like a treasure. She so rarely _said_ it and that was thanks enough. Just knowing she knew this was his choice and recognizing him for it.

"I'm sure we'll think of something~" Sitting back, satisfied and reaffirmed she was as darling as he'd assumed. Such little expectation of him. 

"Now, get yourself dressed so I can go spoil you." He waved her off, eyes low and patient. He half expected she needed some space to go squeal or something equally female, the way she was vibrating in glee in that chair. If he moved he was certain he would be snagged into a reason to have to remove her from himself.

He was very nearly required to remove her from his person even _without_ moving. In fact it took every ounce of willpower she had not to fling herself at him in a tight embrace of thanks. But somehow she managed it, and scurried upstairs to get dressed.

Having all her possessions accessible this time, she was able to do a much better job of it, and with a bit of work managed to get her hair into a soft set of curls reminiscent of the old silver screen, complete with a few daintily jeweled hairpins to hold everything in place.

As she reappeared in the study entry, she looked every bit the part of a 30's era woman. She'd even found a set of stockings in her things with that famous seam running up the back of her legs and under the dress she'd found waiting for her the day before. 

Her makeup was even done, making her smile a red to match his suit.

He'd idled his time with a quick chat through his microphone, Husk having found his shenanigans and wanting to verbally express his thanks in detail. Seeing May show up like that however had the signal dropping in a rude, quick whine of interference he was entirely unapologetic for. 

Well. Well now.

"Don't you doll up just swell. My!" He looked her over with an easy smile, joining her with a politely offered hand and working himself from staring at her mouth with a rather impertinent idea of how else to paint it. 

"Shall we~" he handed her the items she'd left on the table, an inky void opening beside them as he eased her into a comfort with the mode of travel. Letting her see what had subsumed them before.

She smiled widely at his words even as her cheeks blushed softly under the rouge, her fingers resting in his gently. It was the effect she'd been going for but it was good to hear it'd worked.

Tucking her newest items against her side, she stepped up next to him--already used to that place at his side it seemed. She still wasn't sure what to think about this new mode of travel and it showed, her fingers tightening slightly in a nervous tic as that void surrounded them.

The shadows put them in a tidy alley, off sight of the masses walking the busy streets of one of the upper shopping lanes the Pentagram had to offer. Incidentally far into another Lord's territory but that rarely meant anything to Alastor. He had his own agreements, or at least expectations, with them. 

Noting the needs he could identify for her, namely an accessory bag and more clothes, he patted her hand and took them into the walking traffic which spread to a comfortable bubble around them. He was known to return an accidental brush against him with blood on a good day, or death if he wasn't feeling kind.

"Now, Miss May, I'd like you to exercise a lack of control. If there is something you fancy, lead the way." He worked a brow at her, aware of how silly that sounded to the average lady. "No matter the taste, I'm feeling generous." And inquisitive.

She'd never even hardly dared walk down this street before, so her eyes practically lit up in excitement as he eased them smoothly into the crowds. Previous experience had taught her that the shopkeepers here were more than willing to try to extract a literal pound of flesh if they caught someone with excessively sneaky fingers.

Admittedly she was growing to enjoy the way she no longer had to weave through the foot traffic, even if it was only to do with her escort. It made it much simpler to navigate though, and a growing part of her was discovering she found a bit of amusement in the frightened looks shot their way.

Practical even when ordered to demonstrate a complete lack of control, she indicated a nearby shop with a variety of styles on display. Hell was certainly a mixed bag of millennia and decades, and this shop seemed to have a decent sampling to pick from.

"I really would like some more dresses. I never realized how great they really look before now," she smiled up at him, still amazed at this opportunity. It hardly even seemed real.

He wheeled around to take her without a second thought, smile sharp as a blade at anyone who looked their way. "They do look very nice on you. Shame I never had the hips for one!" He delivered almost straight, tipping his fingers in salute at an attendant to the shop that looked hesitant to approach but just as much so afraid to neglect them. 

He didn't often come out himself for these things but it was always a question to civilians if he and Valentino were on good enough terms for him to behave. And what that definition was. "Do as you please, I'll join you in a moment." Disengaging to wander into the back, humming as he went.

She definitely couldn't help but laugh at his joke, feeling that giddy sensation worm through her mind at his compliment. She'd started looking over the selection within eyeshot as he motioned over the nervous-looking attendant.

After so long on her own, she suddenly felt incredibly strange whenever he left her side. A part of her wondered if that was a side effect of their deal, or just having been under his sway for what she had come to realize must have been multiple days now.

With a mental shrug, she went to the attendant. The fact of his presence must have kept the attendant well in line, as she soon had a collection waiting, mostly in those dark, earthy colors that suited her complexion and would be perfect for everyday use or simple affairs. She didn't want to go completely over the top. Just the start of a new wardrobe... Plus a little extra.

The last though, she was particularly sure about. Perhaps it was a moment of ego on her part but she'd found one that she simply couldn't live without. It was a perfect blood crimson, just dark enough not to make her appear ill but instead to offset that porcelain skin. _Gods, it even matches the damn lipstick!_ She thought to herself as she grinned into the mirror of the fitting room in delight, having to admit this cut did do wonders with her figure. That one, she decided, she was wearing straight out of the store.

She definitely tried to ignore the total once she was finished. It would have easily been multiple months of residence before he'd found her. But she handed that card across and before she knew it the new wardrobe was boxed and ready for her to take home. As she waited for him to reappear, she browsed idly, chuckling at some of the more ridiculous styles from history.

Alastor had spoken with the owner before drifting back through the store for a few items of his own. Not bothering to pay, assured by a sweating sinner who cowered under a mere glance that anything he touched was a gift, he replaced a few garments that were too torn to bother magicking back together. It allowed him a distanced view of May as she enjoyed herself and he had no reason to doubt she had indulged by time he reappeared at her elbow. Glancing at the boxes but mostly caught by the folds of red now draped across her distractingly. 

"A successful time, I take it?" It was a half thought, focus elsewhere as he manually snapped, sending her parcels home without bothering to know the contents.

She smiled and nodded before rejoining his side as he snapped those parcels home. Even knowing he had no desire for anything physical she had still gotten a dress with a noticeably lower cut neckline. Depending on how distracted he was with that draping red fabric he might also notice her hands were suddenly emptier than before.

"Very. They were incredibly helpful" she grinned, brushing a lock of hair back over her shoulder as she did.

"Indeed..." He murmured, leading her from the shop without once looking where he was going. "You know, if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying to catch my attention." Humming, he gave her a twirl on the street that swishes her skirt charmingly. "Now why would that be?"

Even questioning he continued them on their stroll, gesturing with open claws that she was still welcome to look about to her fancy.

Her cheeks flushed at his words, finally starting to grow used to how he'd spin her from time to time. Besides, it made her skirts flare out so perfectly, how could she not enjoy it? As they resumed their walk, she simply smiled for a bit, letting the question hang for just a few moments.

"Perhaps I just want to look my best. It seems only fair that your companion should reflect well on you, don't you think?" She apparently had some charm in her after all. Or maybe his personality was just starting to rub off a bit.

"Or maybe I just realized I could also fit your gifts perfectly inside this dress, therefore removing the need for a bag at the moment," she chuckled. He was smart. She'd let him figure out where she'd secreted the items. One thing was for sure though, there wasn't a drape or seam out of place.

With her answer finished, she adjusted the neckline of her dress, and a sharp eye would catch the barest twinkle of the end of that wicked blade secreted down the left side of her ribcage, the deadly weapon concealed with the double blessing of curves and an artistically draped gown.

Watching the crowd pass and scanning the shops, she suddenly had an idea. Sure he'd wanted to spoil her, but she wanted him to have fun as well. In a smooth motion she hooked his arm around hers like he'd done so many times before on their walks, quickly releasing her hold so it looked as natural as if he'd done it himself. "How about you pick something next. Whatever you think I need."

Dodgy little gal. He squinted at her, letting her know he caught the avoidance but was too amused to make a fuss about it. Reflection indeed, she didn't even know what getting his attention _meant_. Certainly not what most would seek from him. 

"How charmingly resourceful of you." Ceding her the point, it caused him to give her form a long look, catching the glint and giving her credit where due. 

Looking about he mused to himself with the stuttered sound of a tuning dial, quiet as they walked. What did she need? Well, so much but the question was what could he buy. Hm. Patting her hand as he thought before steering her in a particular direction without a word.

She couldn't help but smirk at his squinty expression. Seems she could needle him occasionally as well and she enjoyed the mischievous freedom he was granting her tonight.

Despite the crowd around them, she still picked up the random noises of a tuning radio, smiling softly as she realized she could literally hear him thinking. Her attention drawn at the soft pat of his hand on hers, she glanced back up at him from the windows she'd been idly inspecting in their passing, finding herself steered smoothly in a new direction on the busy street.

The shoppe he took her to was an odd one. The front had no show windows and the door was closed but he let them in with confidence to a small room filled with colored lights and enough sweet fragrances that he nearly sneezed. 

A mix of items lined too close shelves, many exotic books and odd memorabilia, hanging drafts of herbs and flowers, bottles of unusual ingredients and...candy. Half the store was sweets of varying shapes and sizes, lovingly crafted by the old demoness that sat sewing what looked like a tiny quilt square at the table. Clearly not a busy shop.

Her eyes couldn't take in all the details fast enough, openly gazing in curiosity at the strange mixture of items on offer. The crowded nature of the store rather forced her in closer to him and she glanced up at him with an apologetic expression, knowing it probably made him uncomfortable.

Those delicate fingers lifted to trace along the spines of the books as she examined them curiously, the hand on his arm slowly slipping away as she started to explore. A few bundles of herbs and flowers were sniffed and she smiled at the familiar ones--one or two even getting a deeper sniff as she closed her eyes in happiness at the scents. 

Wandering further, her gaze passed over the bottles and memorabilia, reaching out to pick a few up for closer examination before carefully replacing them on the shelves.

She tipped a smile to the shop owner as she passed the desk where she worked the quilt square with obvious skill, drawn by the bright colors of the candies. She wasn't sure the reason yet he'd brought her here, but figured he'd reveal it in his own time, content for the moment just to explore the aisles and displays of the quiet shoppe.

Alastor still found a way to let her wander off, forgiving the small contacts in the process patiently as he went over to the counter. The woman lit up seeing him, dropping her sewing to reach over with her hands outstretched. Obediently he bent, huffing as she mushed his cheeks with an odd sounding cackle before releasing him to gesture wildly in sign. 

Turning to indicate May, Alastor signed back, the two sharing a complicated discussion in ASL as he laughed and riveted his attention on their chatter until the woman was cackling. Half of his gestures were clearly showy and exaggerated and the old gal was blushing in the end. 

"May~ I'd like to pick you up some reading, but if you'd like any treats you're welcome to them. I've at least heard they're rather excellent." He looked to her, seeing where she'd wandered to in his lapse.

The cackle drew a glance over her shoulder, suppressing a laugh at the sight of the poor Overlord subjected to, of all things, cheek pinching from the owner. She'd turned to continue her examination of the strange variety within the store when she heard, with no prelude, more laughter out of the elderly demon.

Confused, she turned to see Alastor and the old woman gesticulating wildly. Furrowing her brow a bit she watched the rapid-fire conversation, unable to keep from smiling at least a little at how entertained the shopkeep apparently was. Not that she caught much of anything out of the conversation. Her sign skills were incredibly limited and they were going what seemed like a mile a minute.

As his attention turned to her again, she lifted her brows curiously. She hadn't even recognized most of the titles, or even some of the languages. But she'd told him to pick something, so she figured she'd just have to go along with it.

Her attention returned to the vast selection of candies, quietly wondering to herself what that had all been about. Her final choices seemed to lean to the sour preference, though a few pieces of dark chocolate did find their way into her hands as well by the time he'd finished with his selections.

A few rather educational and certainly _safe_ books on the occult in english joined her choices, a few odd supplies for himself, and Alastor was ready to pay. This he didn't pull out a card for, instead handing over a few jars of clearly harvested portions of creatures before removing his right glove to score it open with his claws, filling a jar the shop keeper had at ready with his own black blood. 

Her gestures of thanks were obvious, smiling bright and waving enthusiastically at May in a motherly manner as he licked his hand clean and donned his glove once more. 

Gesturing to the door, he allowed May to lead the way through the cramped store.

Well _that_ was an exchange she hadn't expected. A flicker of a grimace crossed her face at the presented organs. Somehow the blood payment was less surprising, but she still rubbed her thumb across her own palm at the idea of cutting so easily into such a sensitive pad of tissue.

Hoping she still remembered the signs properly, heaven knew it had been ages since she'd used any of it, she carefully signed a simple message of thanks and that she'd be back for more sweets to the old shopowner. When that old face lit up happily, she returned it with a relieved smile. That could have been so embarrassing if she'd gotten it wrong.

Following his gesture, she led the way back out the door, the noise of the voices and the traffic in the street suddenly feeling ridiculously loud. She waited outside the door for him, brushing her fingers to smooth her skirts as a slight breeze gusted them about her knees.

"So... What was that all about?" She asked when he joined her, curious if he would actually grace her with filling her in on the conversation she'd largely missed.

"Hm?" Even he looked struck by the sound, sensitive ears laying back a moment as he adjusted to resuming their walk. "Oh, just livening an old witch's day with a few jokes and stories. She's a fine old bird, quite a mother to anyone she takes a shining to~ I let her know to keep an eye on you for me and she had to pass along her scoldings." Leaning close, he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper. "She says I'm too thin and should eat more! Haha!"

"Well I for one agree with her!" she chuckled, giving the side of his hip a quick poke before smiling innocently. "You're practically skin and bones that I can tell" his emboldened partner quipped.

She did have to wonder just a bit as they walked what exactly he meant by "keep an eye on her", but figured it was wiser not to press the matter. The old woman seemed friendly enough.

He gasped, full stage affronted as he pressed a hand to his heart and leaned away. "How could you! And after I bought you chocolate with my own blood and tears. You wound me." Holding his cheek he shook his head, dramatic and grinning. 

"You know, it's not my fault I'm starved. I love good dinner company, but no matter how many I invite over I can't seem to stop wen'di'go." He voiced the pun almost sadly, dropping the bad joke with a straight faced grin as he perked back up from his faux betrayal.

Her laughter pealed loudly among the crowd at the awful, but well-played jokes, slipping her arm back through his in what had become practically habit by this point. 

"Well... At least you seem to have found one that will stick around" she chuckled softly, patting his arm as if he actually needed the reassurance. "And all it took was treating her to your own cooking!" she grinned crookedly, gazing up at him from the corner of her eyes playfully.

"Keep me around long enough maybe I'll even make your witchy grandmother proud" she smirked, even as she felt a twinge of hunger herself.

"Speaking of eating--what's good around here? Something smells amazing right now and I'm pretty sure it's not just me," she laughed, even as she rose onto tiptoe to see over the taller sinners to see if she could spot what was so enticing.

Glancing around Alastor tried to pinpoint just what had caught her attention, the differences in their tastes making it a guessing game at best. Steering her to walk past eateries he looked in at the cafes and restaurants with a skeptical brow. So much smelled chemical to him under the scent of spices and loitering sinners.

"For the record that woman adores me. My biggest fan, for someone who doesn't know my work." He sniffed haughtily just to ruin it by sticking his tongue out at her. This sassy side of her had him playful, totally engrossed in her easy smiles and relaxed manner. Pointing out a few places he hummed. "Go where you will, I'm not much of one to dine in the lust district so it'll be an adventure."

Despite his apparent reluctance, she soon spotted a small café that looked promising and seemed to let out a less aggressive tangle of smells. With a gentle tug to his arm she indicated the place, the establishment somewhat out of place amid the more attention-seeking restaurants. It seemed to exude a quiet charm, well lit with a small fence enclosing the outdoor seating area that was full of small tables, none having more than three seats about them. The interior was much the same, and was decorated much like a more traditional European cafe than the modern restaurants around them.

A few sinners quietly melted away from the host stand at their appearance, leaving them free to approach the nervous-looking woman at their leisure.

But the surroundings didn't really seem to matter to her, caught up in their banter as she was and laughing at his childish appearance of his tongue.

"She seems a dear. I'm going to have to brush up on my sign. And, might I say, your sleep seems to have perked you up considerably!" she smiled, thoroughly enjoying this playful side of him. Such a difference from the first days already.

Giving her the lead, Alastor only mentioned a coffee off-handedly to the woman who was entirely fixated on making them happy.

"I've had to get handy at it over the years. Nonverbal communication is important." He agreed, making eyes at a few sinners that stared too long until they resumed their meals. "Was I not myself? Hm. Well, give it a few days~ I'll be wrong as rain in no time." Chuckling he deigned to go set himself outside, not bothering to wait on permission from the hostess.

Following him to the selected table, she settled herself into the cushioned metal seat, quietly watching him dissuade the attention of others so simply. Undoubtedly they found it surprising to see him out with a partner, knowing his reputation in Hell. 

She indicated to make that two coffees from the staff that appeared, but for her own sake added on a couple quiches. Perhaps that would tempt him, as he seemed to dislike sweets.

"Oh don't get me wrong, you were perfectly charming still. But you didn't seem to have the same humor as you do now." She chuckled, glancing up at the waitress who appeared again and smoothly deposited two mugs of coffee onto the table along with a small jug of cream should they desire it. The savory dish followed right behind, appearing to be enhanced with what smelled like goat cheese and a subtle blend of herbs in the dense egg base.

"Thank you, again, by the way," she offered him with a gentle smile as she poured a bit of cream into her own coffee, eyes watching the way the pale liquid blossomed in the darkness. "You really have been incredibly generous with me. I can't really say it enough."

"Darling, I'm a riot." He raised a brow imperiously, sipping his coffee like it was the standing vote of agreement. But he understood, knowing full well he sometimes fell right off his rocker and just kept cackling on the floor. 

Sitting primly with his beverage he turned his attention from her food, mulling over her thanks as the rarity it was. "It's no trouble dear. I know what it's like to claw out of a bad life, and am only happy to provide for those who appreciate the act. Just as I strip the spoiled of their ill deserved luxury I spread the same." Another sip, toeing gently into macabre topics with good taste. "You'll make it worth my time."

That caught her attention. She found it hard to believe he'd ever struggled. His manner just seemed so natural.

"I guess I never realized you'd done that. Your home is so beautiful I just presumed you were used to that lifestyle," she answered gently, cutting a bite from her food with the side of her fork and leaning in to taste it with obvious happiness at the savory flavors.

But yet again he left a mysterious phrase hanging. Dammit, it was like he knew exactly how impossible it was for her not to rise to that bait! But she at least had the ability to take a sip of her coffee before giving in to that curiosity.

"Yes, I've honestly been wondering how I'm to do that. I don't exactly have much to offer in exchange."

She was hooked. Easy enough to reel in for sure.

"Mm. Yes, I certainly am now. Magick has made quite a bit possible. But no, I was born to the mud under the bottom of the barrel and it's been quite the climb!" He laughed, even if there was a bitter hint to it. Tilting his head as he watched her, smile slipping into something sharp and sly for a breath.

"My dear May, I thought it was clear all I'd like is you. It's been a delicious change to my usual company." Hiding behind his mug his eyes were innocent, pinky raised as he fought snickering. He'd hate to put off her appetite but she did ask.

Again he'd sent her on that dizzying dichotomy of charm and just a flash of fear as she caught that vital phrasing. It made her cough slightly, reaching for the mug of coffee to clear the issue as her cheeks flushed softly. 

Is that why he isn't eating? she wondered, her eyes wandering from those intimidating teeth in his smile to the sharp edges of his claws as she hesitantly continued her meal quietly for the moment. One needed all they could to keep up with him, she'd found, so she wasn't going to pass up the admittedly delicious little meal.

Seeing she was still with him, he chose to press more. Conversationally of course. "Might I ask what your torment is?" A bit random, so he pressed on before she could be too confused. "All we sinners have some affliction Hell saw fit to punish our ways. Husker, dear boy for instance, suffers such an incredibly apathetic laziness. Not quite sure why, but he was stripped of 'energy' in this life of death. Not much of a punishment but certainly a distraction." Raising his brows he waited for an answer, a question...anything. Prying.

She had to ponder that one for a moment as she ate, some part of her mind thankful he'd eased away from that other Alastor for the time being. There were a few possibilities she could possibly label as her torment. 

"I guess I'd never thought about it" she admitted, fingers hooking her own cup of coffee as she pushed the empty plate aside. "But I remember being much better at reading others before, and being much less readable myself. It's been frustrating being so easily... Pinned down" she finally answered, leaning back in her seat comfortably as the waitress dropped the check with an awkward smile--obviously wanting to limit the amount of time had to spend at the table.

Then she chuckled and added another one. "I also had a much better head for directions in life as well. It took me _weeks_ to learn the streets around the first place I had here. I was always getting lost."

"So you've lost some independence." He summarized, tapping his claws on the mug. "Because you certainly didn't lose wits. Peculiar." Looking her over he tried to imagine how that had come about, what vice or sin translated to a new found vulnerability. Pride perhaps? Excessive confidence? 

Softly he continued, volunteering. "Mine is hunger, dear. I'm not ashamed to say it, I have a black pit that will never be satisfied. It wasn't as a man, or a monster, and certainly not as a demon. Not much of a punishment once one adjusts to the pain, but-" Another shrug and he smiled beautifully at her. "It wasn't a kindness to Hell to equip me with motivation for my pursuits."

His summation seemed accurate enough and she nodded in agreement. Maybe it was a lingering punishment on how she'd misread the man who'd killed her. She should have been able to see he was too paranoid to mess with but the potential payout had been too good to ignore.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his as he volunteered his own, surprised at his openness about it. A twinge of pity flashed through her mind at the thought of never remaining satisfied in some deep, intrinsic way. But then, at least it explained the feral way he'd devoured her that first night, the memory of what really lurked within him making her shiver in her seat slightly. 

"That sounds awful... I'm sorry," she finally offered gently, tracing the curve of the mug handle in her fingers. "I mean, I know it's Hell and it's supposed to be, well, hell. But that sounds horrific to deal with."

The demon shrugged one shoulder, entirely nonplussed although his smile softened at her tone. "I lived with and died by it. Honestly for all my sins I expected far worse! Haha! I'm here entirely by design, reaping the interest of countless investments~ it's only fair I take my lashes." 

The waitress had returned, seeming uncertain when he held out a card he forced her to approach to retrieve instead of just placing it on the table. His dark humor following her as she scurried off. Looking back to May he grinned extra wide, toothy with his creepy glee.

"And honestly I was delighted to find cannibalism is just as taboo in Hell as on Earth. Human instinct dies slow it seems~ which is so entertaining."

She watched the poor waitress struggle and scurry away with a subtle stare, a small smile lurking behind her mug as she finished the last bits of the bracing drink. She was coming to enjoy how others were so terrified of him it seemed. 

As he returned his gaze to her he just might have caught the last moments of that dark smirk of her lips before her face returned to that open, innocent way he seemed to do delight in from her. She leaned in now, resting her arms on the table as she chuckled softly at his words, legs crossing at the ankle to tuck under her chair. The new position would probably have driven any other interested individual to distraction, the way that neckline sat so enticingly. Instinct indeed. 

"Yes, we are stubborn that way it seems," she quipped back, resting her cheek on one hand as she watched the streets. An old habit of people-watching she hadn't quite shrugged off yet.

May's body language drew his eye but not in the way it should. Calculating and observing her with a cool fascination as he finished his own coffee. Too much of her appearance and their conversation on his mind to bother with overly much subtlety. 

"Yes, you are," he distanced himself from humanity, "but adaptable too. So I'll offer you this. Which one of us shall be catching my dinner tonight?" A brief gesture from him to her accompanied the question, rather point blank for his newest pet.

Her chin lifted off her palm as she stared wide-eyed at him. Catching?! She couldn't even find the words for a moment, caught in a moment of absolute shock.

"C... Catching?" She finally stammered out, feeling the familiar pulse in her neck as her heart pounded. She seemed utterly lost for how to answer him and her fingers gripped lightly at the tablecloth as her mind started to race. Would he expect her to kill them? What was he wanting from this fresh-faced being he'd plucked from the street?

Standing, he offered her a hand, nodding as he looked out to the crowds they'd been surveying. It startled the returning waitress but he just plucked his card from her without sparing a glance.

"Yes, catching~" He said it slowly, enunciating. "Because while I can catch a certain breed of bravado or fool, you offer a different set of skills. One I have a particular taste for, and they are posilutely rampant in this sector of town." A wave encompassed the streets, the classy demons and loitering hookers alike, the ever present signs of where they were. 

"Or~ we can just go home if it's a hassle. But I think you'd rather not." And he wasn't laughing, letting the soft promise hang for her to hear if she caught his meaning.

Swallowing nervously, she took his hand and stood, taking in the sweep of his hand and the way it encompassed the denizens of the Lust district.

That dark promise in his voice made her shiver, her stomach turning as she gazed up at him in terror, that pulse pounding again in a way he couldn't seem to resist enjoying.

"I... I wouldn't know..." she whispered nervously, gaze once more returning to the street walkers and their potential clients. Surely he didn't mean for her to do that, did he? But then even he has been able to appreciate the look of that dress, so surely it would make her an instant bit of bait in the trap.

Walking her along, he used the easy motion to settle her. "Know what, my dear? Whether you can, whether you should? We've already done this dance...and no harm befell you then." He turned from looking at her kindly to an eerie grin at the bystanders avoiding them on the street.

Leaning close he spoke like they were friends, resuming that charade of a couple on the street. "A sweet lovely gal alone in these areas, you'd certainly only catch the vilest of sinners, no? Would you spare them of me for your flesh instead..." He purred.

Her heart raced even as they fell into that easy pace again. Admittedly it did help soothe her worry, that familiar sensation of walking safely at his side even if her heart raced within her. But those words made her shiver in a mixture of fear and delight--blushing at his words as he twisted at her mind even more. A few moments of silent consideration passed as she walked with him.

When she did finally answer she barely looked up at him, her cheeks flushed in nervousness as she finally voiced the final fear.

"You'll stop them. Before...?" she asked with a small tone, her earlier sass and mischievousness swallowed up in fear for her own safety. She knew well enough the kind of attention she might get dressed like this on her own out here.

That stopped him in his tracks, pulling her around to face him square and lifting her chin. Stealing all of her focus and bedamned anyone who was caught staring. "My dear, no one touches what is mine. I would never permit you to endure any act on your person by mere cattle." There was a growl there, certainly, but not directed at her. Even if it stung a bit she thought he might stop so low for mere sport, it just ran his blood hotter, pitching him closer to a promise of violence.

"Now, go find your style~ and don't get caught in the open." It felt like she needed at least that much direction, sweet and untried as she was. Not a predatory bone in this one. 

Dropping his hold he spun away, cast her a stern look more for the onlookers than any ire, and snapped himself away just so the sound caught attention.

The shiver that worked down her spine as he gripped her chin was easily seen, even as her frame relaxed slightly at his words and her fingers lifted to rest on his wrist delicately. The reassurance had been badly needed apparently, as she pressed his hand against her chin for a moment before he pulled away.

Biting back the nervous whimper as he snapped himself away, she took a breath and squared her shoulders. The press of that sheathed stilleto against her ribs reassured her that he'd given her protection even without his presence, and she let out a steadying breath as the crowd closed around her.

It didn't take long to attract a completely different predator, now that she was alone in the crowds. A solidly built demon soon was advancing on her in a half-drunken blear, playing perfectly to that wolfish look that Hell had bestowed upon him. He'd been so bold as to even take her by the upper arm, making her stiffen alongside him in distaste as he took the spot that had so recently become Alastor's to fill, quickly turning the grimace into a smooth smile.

But bless her, old acting talents kicked in and she soon was talking him up like a pro, even as she started subtly steering the distracted creature toward one of the darker alleys. She'd even gotten his arm around her waist, the little minx, ensuring he was well and truly distracted with the pale flesh framed by her dress' neckline as she finally indicated the alleyway to him and concealed themselves behind a dimly-lit tumble of crates and the cast-offs of the surrounding businesses.

The greedy beast could hardly wait, his hands already fumbling at his waistband as she leaned against the rough wall, trying desperately to remain steady and trust that Alastor would appear like before.

Choosing not to dwell too much on why seeing the canine touch her made him see static, Alastor pinned his ire on what he saw. A foolish mutt that served better as a meal then a denizen. Sweet hell, how he hates the sheer number of dogs in Hell. Seamlessly his shadows reshaped him behind the demon, his radio hum picking up immediately into a warped, jangly tune. 

Grabbing the man by one elbow, he tapped his shoulder with the other as he messily ripped that arm that had curled so lecherously around her off in snaps of flesh. "Pardon, but I think you dropped this!" He waved the limb, eyes bleeding to black and fangs picking up a glow as the screaming started. Catching May's eyes directly past the spray of blood.

The creature had nearly gotten those pants open when Alastor appeared with that strange, wrong music. That nervous bite to her lower lip almost immediately rearranged into a warm smile, even as the man's fate was sealed.

Pressing tightly to the wall as the first sounds of flesh tearing reached her ears, she winced at the terrified screaming that soon started. It reminded her so much of her own remembered screams, but she fought down the desire to succumb to panic. She knew he needed her to see this, and her eyes met his over the terrified prey, gasping and shivering only when the spray dappled across her face and neck. His impertinent wish of earlier had apparently been granted, as the dog's blood painted those red lips an even more true crimson and speckled her with more freckles--this time in red that stood out brightly against her skin.

"Now look what you've done! Not very polite to muss a lady~" Chiding the demon Alastor caught him by the back of the neck when he looked to whirl and flee, eyes wide as he saw who was behind him. Not that there was mistaking his voice but his ever present smile made the fear so much sharper. 

A sharp kick bent one of the wolf's legs back, dropping him to be supported only by the Overlord's grip with a shrieking sob and teasingly Alastor leaned him back, crushing the leg further under his weight to press his back against May. Using her like a wall and captive audience. 

"My you're an ugly one. Must be the muzzle~ either way, I detest dogs so it'll just have to go!" Narrating as he slipped claws under the flesh of the demon's face, peeling it off in a horrible twist that muffled the soggy screams just to toss it aside. "Much better. Don't you agree?"

Pinned against the wall by both the Radio Demon and their prey, she watched the horror unfolding directly against her. The shrieks and sobs from the now stone-sober and terrified demon filled her ears, the pinned woman's heart pounding so hard she felt it might burst in the flooding of adrenaline.

As Alastor quite literally tore the face from the man, she covered her mouth, her eyes wide as a terrified deer as she stared at the ruined horror of what was once recognizable, suppressing a gag as her knees quaked. One of her hands reached out to grasp the stack of crates, clinging desperately to the rough wood to keep herself upright as her breath came in half-sobs. The terror was just too much to hold back anymore, even if she wasn't it's target--this time. 

But through it all she kept that wide-eye watch, determined to see the horror through.

Shifting hands to keep the throat hold Alastor started up a jaunty jazz tune, broken only by the background howls of his mad shadows cheering him on savagely. Tearing the man's other arm off this one he directly tore into, eyes narrowed in satisfaction as he stripped flesh and muscle, biting through bone with only a crackle of resistance. Savage and quick, ears pricked to listen to the gut wrenching pain of his meal and May's gasping. 

It was gone too fast. "Give the gal a hand, my good fellow. You'll die in good company!" He snickered, kneeling in the dark puddle at his feet and just adding more weight to keep the pair in place as he skinned and shredded the wolf's chest open. Too much fur! 

As he ripped into that taut meat his eyes flickered, alternating between bright red lights and glittering dials, almost in time to the gruesome tears of his teeth, swallowing chunks whole and chewing only to release waves of blood that made him purr like a monstrous cat in cream. Far too pleased with the suffering he could feel choking through his prey.

As May watched the gruesome feast, she felt a slow numbness overtake her--the girl's mind working to detach from the horror the only way it could, by shutting down the sympathetic emotional responses. Her heart may still have been racing, but her breathing slowly steadied. 

Ironically, the emotional detachment also helped her pick up the individual noises all the more clearly, the maelstrom of excited howls of the shadows finally distinguishable from the wet, incoherent noises of their prey and the Demon's joyous feasting.

Eventually the weight was simply too much for her to keep holding up and she slowly sank to her knees into the spreading puddle of blood below. What head the former wolf still had was cradled on her thighs now, a scene that could have been straight from a classic painting if not for the absolute ruin. She could feel the blood soaking into her stockings and filling her senses with that copper tang, the way the increasingly unrecognizable creature shifted against her with each feral tear and snap. 

From here she was eye level with the creature she knew to be Alastor, and she was helpless to do anything but watch as he sated himself on the body in her lap.

He was slipping into that static space behind his eyes filled with the joy of destroying, the absolute pleasure in killing that made his blood boil and the world shrink to sensation and taste, the slippery mess he made and the signs of struggle from his prey. It was so much sweeter when they still lived, feeling themselves be torn apart under whatever haze they dipped into. 

Bones cracked, ribs shredded and devoured, innards pulled free by fistfuls and swallowed. The slim man didn't just eat his fill, he ate the man nearly whole, leaving scattered shreds in the wake of wherever his attention darted. 

The wolf needed no restraint, now both hands free, and so Alastor was able to gleefully turn his attention back to May when only a few minutes into the chaos the man started to fade. Seizing both of her hands he held them in his like tools, forcing her to cup the visibly stuttering heart exposed to air. "Be a ~~good girl~~ May," Leering at her through gore, barely holding his form as a man, "and ~~break his heart~~."

She let out a soft noise of fright as his gore-soaked hands grasped hers suddenly, whimpering softly as he pressed her hands into that wreck of a chest to surround the fluttering, wildly-beating fist of muscle. Her breath hitched at the feel of it, the slick writhing thing still so warm and full of life despite the ruin of the body it was once housed by. Her eyes stared at Alastor, almost seeing the blur of him as he fought to maintain that familiar form.

Swallowing back whatever noise or protest she may have somehow been able to voice, she looked back down at the mess in her lap, biting her lip as she squeezed that pulsing organ in both hands. Her claws quickly were pulled into play as the thing felt like it was going to try to leap from her grasp. 

Feeling herself wavering, she forced the image of him so lecherously wanting to use her body into her mind as she gritted her teeth, channeling an anger she didn't even know she'd possessed into pulling that heart in half--the effort of it forcing that set of her jaw into a full snarl by the time the powerful muscle gave way under the pull to truly, in her Demon's words, break the wolf's heart into pieces.

A raucous, static cheer of the shadow audience roared, almost drowning out his dark laugh watching her obey. Even through the obvious struggle, seeing her shift from scared to murderous for an instant was beautiful. Savagely darling on her fey like face, bloodied now by both their actions. 

Still cradling her hands, filled with the mulched meat that meant so much to the perished sinner, he rumbled soothingly and bent to literally eat it out of her hands. Careful with his fangs to only graze, snagging each piece and licking the scraps from between her fingers, breath an inferno on her skin as he coaxed her into the small movements to let him clean her of that sin. Only releasing her when he'd had it all to sit back on his heels and grin at her in pride.

That cheer was nearly unheard by his corrupted darling as she stared down at the pulped organ in her claws. Her heart was racing, but this time it was from sheer exhilaration at overcoming that challenge. The rush of it colored her cheeks in a hot flush once only brought up her innocence.

In awe now she watched him eat that wrecked lump of muscle out of her gore-streaked hands with strange, almost foreign delicacy after the bloodbath of his feast. The feel of his fangs against her hands sent excited thrills through her, her blush deepening as his tongue licked the bloody scraps away from her claws and fingers.

Her own breathing, heavy in the aftereffects of that rush soon matched pace with that nearly painful heat of his own and by the time he was done anyone else would have been hard pressed to tell if it was lust or simple adrenaline fueling those nearly panted breaths.

As she slowly realized the sensations had stopped she looked up at him, gasping softly to try to catch her breath as he practically beamed at her in her bloodied state.

It was only a moments breath, his own ragged and exuberant as he pulled her up with him by the wrists, a choked cackle in his throat as mania and his pride warred for control. The glowing satisfaction won out, lighting his eyes as he tugged her into a waltz, disregarding the mess on them, crunching under their shoes. 

Cackling, he hummed to an oddly soft instrumental song that picked up his cue, barely a tune until he picked up the vocals. Voice steadier than the unhinge in his eyes. High on a kill, higher on watching her do it.

《Sweet little words made for silence not talk  
Young heart for love not heartache  
Red hair for catching the wind  
Not to veil the sight of a cold world

Kiss while your lips are still red~  
While he's still silent  
Rest while bosom is still untouched, unveiled  
Hold another hand while the hand's still without a tool  
Drown into eyes while they're still blind  
Love while the night still hides the withering dawn~》

She followed his pull eagerly, riding the strange high as he pulled her into a waltz right there in the gore-filled alley. Her own laughter soon joined his, even as that blood darkened and dried on her skin. Without even realizing it her tongue ran across that scarlet layer, tasting for herself the creature she'd lured to his demise.

It was strange. It was feral. She released the strange energy with a victorious crowing cry and a burst of electricity, but one that seemed to envelop them both in a warm tingling field instead of afflicting pain.

Unable, or maybe just unwilling, to stop herself she pressed close to him, her cheek resting on his chest as she closed her eyes to let him guide her through the waltz as that song played, surrendering every ounce of trust to him as her heart beat powerfully enough to send that artery leaping in her neck again.

It was welcomed, his hand slipping from her waist up between her shoulder blades to hold her against his arm, head back and just enjoying the dance with his eyes closing. The flutter of her pulse grounded him, her weight keeping him from just diving into the red space in his thoughts currently singing. 

The kill. The blood and the release and the flood of new power in his veins threatening as it always did to break his sense of self and let the monster run free. The precipice where he always found delight in daydreams of freedom and carnage without end.

Time slipped from him, enjoying the dance until he felt his blood cooling. Likely only minutes but it felt like a short eternity of happiness. One he settled from slowly by merit of her grounding presence.

May was so quiet, both of their laughter still echoing in his ears but he hadn't quite noticed her hold on him until he looked down. Drinking in the peace she exuded, he stroked over her hair, a gentle check on her state.

She stayed happily pressed against him as she lingered in that half-mad state, completely unaware of how close she really was as they danced to the haunting tune. Even the occasional crunch underfoot faded from her awareness as they drifted in that shared, bloody bliss until his mind finally cooled.

Even then she wasn't even fully aware of the change until his gentle touch ran over her hair, pulling her from that dreamy state with a faint shiver and a soft, barely-voiced call of his name, as if he'd just woken her from a deep sleep. 

It took her a moment to process as she lifted her head, suddenly aware she had broken that unspoken border he'd maintained around himself until now.

A soft gasp sounded as she moved to step back slightly, not wanting to violate that polite but subtly enforced space he maintained about himself.

Letting her go, he wrinkled his nose as their clothes stuck together minutely, tacky blood delaminating between then. Eyeing them both his lips twisted as he focused on the mess, mentally shrugging off the lingering sense of her against him. 

"The saying goes, you know you're having fun if you make a mess~" Huffing a soft laugh he gestured at them both, a grab and flick that pulled the majority of gore off them to splatter on the wall behind by use of shadows. Not exactly perfect but significantly better, only the dried bits remaining. He ran a hand over his coat, then collected her with a hand to her back, pulling them through another shadow to his kitchen after a soft warning.

Grimacing with him at the tacky mess trying to glue them together, she still couldn't help but blush brightly. Unlike his mental shrug, her own mind refused to move away from the feel of him holding her so closely, and letting her stay without reaction.

She smiled a bit at his words but didn't offer a retort, apparently her mind tied up in processing (and demanding nearly every bit of attention it could muster) as he cleaned off the worst of the mess from their clothing.

The hand on her back pulled her a bit more to her senses though, shivering gently as he pulled her through that strange void and back into his home.

Trying by now to find a way to ground herself as her mind swam, she walked to the small table he'd served that first meal to her on and sank into "her" seat. Her fingers spread across the smooth, cool wood, and he would probably notice her whispering softly to herself as she worked through an old therapeutic exercise she'd picked up somewhere--using the physical senses to help bring the mind back to, well in this case, Hell.

Watching her stumble over to sit, Alastor peeled off his coat to send it upstairs, head tilted as he listened to her stave off some sort of meltdown. What type he wasn't sure as the worst of the event had long passed. Perhaps shock then. 

Keeping an ear trained on May he washed his hands, gloves and all, getting her a glass of water he set down with a clink, not joining her at the table but standing at her side. "Miss May-?"

The exercise seemed to help calm the mental whirlwind, the newly-minted little killer calming as she worked through it. By the time he set the glass of water next to her, she was able to look up at him clearly, offering him a genuine smile this time.

"Thank you, Alastor" came softly to his ears, even as she lifted the glass and took a deep drink before setting it back down with a faint rattle. The tremor in her hands this time simply the adrenaline drop as she let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing noticeably as she leaned back in the seat, one hand still wrapped loosely around the glass as she gazed up at the ceiling with a strangely happy expression.

Pursing his lips he tapped her nose. "Still on your high, dearie? You look plum tickled to have the Radio Demon eating out of your hand~" Because he certainly remembered that! Rolling his eyes at himself and how silly that must have looked, he couldn't regret the effect. That had been fun! And he did feel better for the time.

Her nose wrinkled slightly as he tapped it, chuckling softly at his words. She caught his fingers gently, holding them a moment before she ran her thumb over his knuckles and released him, not wanting to press his graces that far just yet.

"I've never experienced anything like it. It was terrifying. I think I went slightly mad..." She lifted a hand to her eyes, covering them gently for a moment as she laughed a bit at herself before continuing. "And I think I loved it. I loved feeding you! I loved watching every scrap of that disgusting beast's heart vanish off my hands..."

She trailed off, looking at those hands that were so oddly clean after his delicate attentions compared to the rest of her blood-marked form.

She missed his quick frown, shaking his hand and smiling tight at how she was getting increasingly touchy. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do about that. Something usually reserved for a few. 

"Well, I'm not the man to chastise you for enjoying a good time. I thought you were marvelous." He meant that, still watching her curiously. Half expecting a rebound or tears as she came down. 

"Would you like to know a secret. A very nasty secret?" Leaning a hip on the table, thoughts bustling through his mind in a lazy traffic jam of his own endorphins.

Her smile widened until it seemed impossible on her own face at his words. She took a drink of water as he watched her for signs of emotional collapse, but she felt amazing. Maybe a bit tired after all the energy output but feeling so amazing she could ignore it for now.

And of course he tapped right into that insatiable curiosity again, bringing her back down to their plane of existence again as she sat up properly again, tilting her head curiously. "Secret?" she chirped out, scratching softly at one dried fleck of blood where it had started to itch slightly

Crossing his arms he supported his chin on a loose fist, nodding slowly. "Hell is quite persistent but there is one thing I've noticed." She really looked rather sound, remarkable. "The hearts I eat, never get back up. We didn't kill a bastard. We _erased_ him." And he was perfectly pleased with that, gaining more from such a meal than he would share.

She took a moment to process that knowledge. It made the intense moment she'd just experienced that much more incredible. To think that creature would never touch another person like that again ever, that was powerful. And she'd fed it to him. It gave her a thrill to think it, if the grin on her face was any indication of her thought process. Then a thought occurred to her.

"You did that to my landlord, didn't you?" she asked openly, not a single hint of fear in her voice.

That proud smile was back, eyes smoldering as he watched her process the power trip of playing god. Of being an exterminator any day of the year. She looked radiant. 

"Yes, I did." No hesitation. "The rest was too disgusting but that, I make an exception for. Always."

A flash of that innocent girl he'd taken out tonight returned for a moment as she smiled gently, her gaze dropping as she spread her fingers over the bloodstains on her thighs. "Thank you." She said softly, the simple phrase unable to describe how freeing it was to know he'd never bother her again, even if she wasn't under Alastor's care.

"It was my pleasure, May, I assure you." Straightening again he tapped his knuckles on the table. A random, unthinking tempo. 

"Now, I think we could both stand to clean up." Changing the topic he gestured at her lightly, turning to retire himself. "Set that out and it'll be cleaned." He added over his shoulder, making a note to introduce her to his bug later. If he remembered. Hm, eventually. "Good night, Miss May~"

She glanced down at herself, catching herself scratching again with a soft blush before rising from her seat.

"Good night, Alastor", she called gently after him, before making sure to wash that glass and set it out to dry beside the sink.

Feeling suddenly filthy, she wound her way upstairs to her room, pausing a moment to look over at his closed door before pushing open her own and taking a good hot shower, one overdue after all the recent--well, everything.

She was so tired by the end she nearly forgot to put out her things to be cleaned, remembering only at the last second and placing them in a tidy pile outside her door before falling into bed, undoubtedly asleep before the blankets finished settling around her

His own shower scalded the lingering feeling of contact right off his skin, abrasive and cleansing as he stood for what may have been hours under the spray. Eyes closed and measured breathing. Tonight had gone so very nicely. A good thing, a thing not to ruin. 

He waited until he was sure she had gone to bed to pull himself from his thoughts, dress in house clothes and settle in his wingback chair in front of his bedroom fireplace with an extra fluffy blanket and a sigh. Everything upstairs was too loud still, even for reading. Barely remembering to send the small chime to Niffty to come tidy, he settled into the music in his mind to stare into the flames and drift for a sleepless night.

~

Her deep sleep had turned into a tossing one as her mind finally started trying to process, fully, everything that had happened lately. Her landlord chased her through her apartment--the building expanded to the size of a city. Her mind oddly morphed that figure into a mutated and warping version of the wolf she'd lured into Alastor's clutches. The halls were winding and the doors all locked, giving her no escape as she fled in panic from the monster. 

Finally finding a red door marked with fractal, twisting antlers, she plunged through, falling onto a table in the company of a shadowed figure, all glittering fangs and reddened claws that rushed her, aiming for her--

And she woke with a shout, shooting upright as she escaped the dream world into the real one again. She was shaking. Hefting her water bottle she discovered she'd not filled it and sighed. She'd have to go find a glass.

Lacking a true robe to cover her sleep clothes, she pulled an oversized cardigan on and wrapped it closed. It didn't cover her legs, but at least the rest of her was decent. Ish.

Slipping from her room, she glanced at his door. Something told her he'd be awake, and having his presence nearby would help stave off the lingering shadows of the dream. So a moment later she was knocking softly on that outer door--almost apologetic for wanting his company, feeling like a child afraid of the dark.

The lights flickered as Alastor startled, first instinct always a hackle. Blinking at the time piece on his mantel he was skeptical Niffty needed him. She never knocked. His head thudded back against his chair and he sorted his thoughts from the haze he'd been in, long since listening to rises and pitch of static after the music ran dry.

It was his shadow that opened the door, loosely physical with soft blue features twisted like a curious cheshire. Angled from the inner darkness it blinked down at her, confirming her for it's other half before holding open the door silently.

She paled slightly at the sight of the shadow in the doorway, her fingers tightening where she held the cardigan closed with one hand. The fuzzy image of that shadow in her dream resurfaced, making her hesitate before she padded quietly into his outer room through the opened door.

Not sure which door he was behind, she turned back to the shadow, having to shift when one foot dipped in one of those huge prints on the floor. "Can I see him?" she asked gently, hooking her sleep-mussed hair behind her ears.

Tilting at her it squinted, ears on a swivel as it listened to feedback from Alastor before dipping in a nod and going to the bedroom door. Twisting it open in a particular way to hold it like a gentleman, albeit one that curled to watch her go like a curiosity.

A feeling Alastor mirrored while smoothly correcting his posture to greet her quietly. "Miss May..." His eyes searched her clinically, but forgoing standing to meet her in his own rooms.

A small wash of relief came over her as the shadow nodded and opened that inner door, the firelight spilling into the darkness and casting her own inanimate shadow large behind her.

Already she felt oddly safer as she stepped into his presence, her gaze dropping in a moment of shyness at that quiet greeting. She felt like such a child, running to him after a silly dream.

"I had a nightmare," she admitted, two fingers rolling the edge of the cardigan at her chest as she tucked her hair back again with her free hand.

"You--you don't need to do anything," she quickly added, reassuring him contact wouldn't be needed to soothe her. "Can I sit with you? I feel safer. I wouldn't even need a chair"

His face was unreadable, grin fixed as he turned to survey his room, then her. What an odd little thought she had. "My dear, I'd rather not have you sleeping on my floor." There was a time for that and it wasn't from nightmares.

"Lay down," he gestured aside at the untouched bed, covered in furred blankets and red duvets, "I'll play you something to help." Little to no inflection but he was gentle, eyes sliding back away to the fire. Essentially welcoming her with his lack of protest.

Her gaze lifted as he told her to lie down, blushing softly but following his directions. A rustle of fabric was heard alongside the noises of the fire as she sank onto the bed and traded the partial cover of that sweater for one of the blankets. The sweater, lacking a known place to put it, was puddled on the floor just beside his bed as she curled around one of his pillows, using the stuffed form as a replacement for any physical contact she might have wanted instead.

"Thank you" she offered gently, knowing she was intruding but grateful for the allowance. She didn't fall asleep right away though, her gaze watching him quietly as he sat, occasionally finding herself gazing into the fire as well as she slowly relaxed.

He answered her with a soft tune, emanating from the actual radio beside the bed rather than himself. Alastor was still, slowly relaxing his own posture back into an eased curl in the chair. Pulling his furred blanket into something to knead and pick at as his mind was elsewhere. 

This was how he lost time, delving into the waves of Pentagram City and ignoring the reality of his physical form, listening and adjusting and hazing as he sat nearly motionless except the unconscious motions of his hands and the flicker of dials across his eyes. For her, he kept his eyes on the fire, hiding the glow in the reflection of flames. For her, he spared the focus to keep the room gently lulling her to rest so she didn't hear the distortions that popped around him, echoes of countless voices in tiny whispers across Hell. 

Distantly he hoped she rested well, that she wasn't affronted by his scent and tastes in bedding, the odd little things that strike the mind when someone is spontaneously in your bed. Oh well. When she woke he was sure she'd tell him one way or another.

She smiled as he activated the radio without even moving, her eyes soon starting to drift closed in the peace he gave her, not knowing the way he kept the atmosphere intentionally quiet for her comfort.

Eventually she passed back into that deep sleep to the combined calm crackling of the fire and the gentle radio, hugged around the pillow and nuzzled down into the blankets . His scent was anything but an affront, filling her with a strange security that kept her dreams quiet until the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whim struck again but as my dear, and insufferable, spouse would say~ Overlord privileges!
> 
> I might even post again, who could stop me?


	4. Pantries and Chamomile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit more alluding towards that domestic joke of ours and misunderstandings.
> 
> Everyone enjoys a day at home now and then. It makes going out so much more fun!

The demon was so deep in the ether he didn't stir when his door clicked open at the start of the day, only blinking back to awareness when his hands were tugged. Looking down at the tiny cyclops scowling lightly at him, tugging his blanket away.

"You're shredding again! It's in tatters, completely ratted! Give me that, and your gloves. Did you do your nails? No, course not," lecturing in a low, patient tone in a nonstop stream as he held his hands to her one at a time to cover a jaw cracking yawn. "Keep your voice down." 

"Oh shush! You've been playing in sound all night, you can wake up. And look, snags! You're going to shred everything and your gloves are hard to mend- why don't you have a post? Husk has a post, well it's a wall, but you beasties need an Emery table, I swear. Is that what happened to her? So much blood. So, so much, a shame, now where is your file-" It never stopped until he caught her from running off, lifting her by the back of her shirt with a tired smile.

"Niffty. Quiet. She's fine, but she's resting and you're already nattering like a cokebug." He chided her slowly, failing to accomplish stern and she covered her mouth in both hands when he turned her towards the bed. 

"Oh. _Oh._ Why... _Allie~_ " She giggled and he dropped her on her face with a suffering sigh. "No..."

A steady stream of energetic chatter slowly pulled her from the light stages of sleep the next morning, her mind only reluctantly stirring into wakefulness as the voice prattled on nearly without a stop for breath.

She pressed herself up on one elbow as Alastor tried to quiet whoever it was, brushing her hair from her face as she felt herself starting to become more cognizant. That hair was a mess, locks draped over her horns where it had hooked as she shifted in sleep, giving her a slightly feral look as she slowly sat up fully with a soft groan just as that voice pieced together what she thought had happened. Her sleep shirt had gone crooked in her sleep, leaving the collar of it pressing up against one side of her neck and slipping off her shoulder on the other side. It probably wouldn't dissuade Niffty's assumptions, poor Alastor.

She stretched a bit before finally feeling awake enough to understand her surroundings, finally tugging the shirt up over her shoulder again as she noticed the stranger.

"H... Hi" she said awkwardly as the energetic little thing picked herself up off the floor, shooting a questioning glance to Alastor as the other girl looked between them, grinning fit to burst and bouncing excitedly like she'd just gotten the best news possible.

That eye slid once to the Overlord and he saw her grin curl, warning. "Niffty... _Niffty_ -!" His tone rose, leaning to swipe for her as she darted to jump onto the bed. He missed.

"Oh _Hi!_ Look at you! So pretty, such a _pretty_ girl! How are you, sleep alright? Course you did, this bed, isn't it awesome? Oh, look at your hair let me get you a brush and Oh! Pants. _You're not wearing any pants_ ," throwing blankets, standing outright on the bed as she scurried about patting and looking May over with a glittering smile. "Allie~ she's cute and _undressed!_ You scamp! Oh, but you're so cute! How long have you been here? My you work fast! Are you staying, are you marrying him? Would that make us friends or sisters or my mother? No-no that's weird. Friends would be nice though. Your dress was _beautiful_ but I see why! Red matches and I bet you look good with him. Hm. Bet you do. I need a camera. Have you eaten? I'll get you breakfast. And pants. Unless I should just go then you don't need either but I should probably trim his nails, you know?" More and more manic, wickedly gleeful and ignoring how Alastor rose with a slow determination, a tic in one eye twitching as he prowled to the edge of the bed, trying to snag the ever moving little gal.

May stared wordlessly at the small, incredibly chattery little creature that was suddenly all over her in fascination. Glancing down at the girl's mention as she was fussed over, her cheeks blushed brightly as she realized that sleep shirt had rucked up over her hips in her sleep, exposing the edge of lace that traveled over her hip as it hugged against her body.

Tugging the shirt down over her hips since Niffty had swiped away the covers, her mouth worked, simply unable to get a word in edgewise as the energetic little thing patted and prattled on about her and Alastor.

Doing her best to fend off the tiny creature, mind whirling at the endless chatter and questions, she watched Alastor approach to try to catch the tiny bundle of energy. _It's too early for this_ she thought to herself, raising a hand to fend off the small girl from touching her face.

When he finally caught her there was a short yelp, his growing mortification at her accusations making him harsh in scruffing her like a wild cat. If he shook her it was entirely an impolite accident, holding her up to scowl at the innocence she adopted. 

" _Niffty_ ~ you're being _rude_. Miss May was only resting here after a long night of _shopping_." A stern look, flashing black, made her mouth click back shut on whatever thought she had. "Now apologize and kindly, blessedly, _shut up._ " It ended on an exasperated sigh that made Niffty giggle but she nodded, hands folded together where she hung from his fist.

After a moment he set her down and thank hell she stayed put. "Hiya! Sorry 'bout that. But I'm so excited to see another lady! And you're cute and he _likes_ you so...so sorry about waking you but let's be friends!" So excited before adding in a lower, serious tone, "I really need friends." 

Alastor was averting his eyes, more watching the ladybug in case she went off like a firecracker again, hands on his hips. "This little bug has a tidiness fixation, and she's here keeping after me now and then." Proper introductions would be tedious at this point.

Now that she'd gotten a chance to catch up a bit, she smiled warmly at Niffty, cheeks still colored softly at the praise and insistence that Alastor liked her. 

_I guess she's not wrong_ she thought, glancing up at Alastor as he stared like his gaze alone would be sufficient to keep the energetic little bug pinned in place. _He did let me sleep in his bed..._ she smiled to herself, biting back a laugh at how easily Niffty had misinterpreted the situation.

"Well I think she's precious," she answered Alastor while smiling at the bug, Niffty, she now knew. "And you seem like a lovely friend. Just, maybe not so early next time" she laughed, finishing with it directed at the other girl before motioning Niffty closer to stage whisper a tease about needing both of them to keep Alastor properly kept and healthy, her expression mischievous as she looked up at the exasperated demon.

"She is rather nifty." He agreed, going to leave them to talk before spinning to fix them both with a wide, dark stare when Niffty leaned in just as much to whisper about him being a 'difficult man'. "Well! If you two conspirators are quite at home, I'll just leave you ladies to it!" And he was gone. His shadow rose to muss both their hair, grinning like mad and ducking a kiss to Niffty's brow before it too slinked off in its own wispy way.

The two women looked sidelong at each other as he pinned them both with that dark stare, the pair of them both badly suppressing the amused smiles on their faces as he grouched at them. He may have looked upset when he left but she had a feeling Alastor wasn't that angry from the way the shadow dropped that affection before it vanished. He must just be bad at goodbyes, she figured as she watched Niffty fix her hair.

"Yeah, I knew he liked you." The girl sighed, patting her hair and bouncing onto the bed beside May like she owned it. "It's not that early you know, I've been up for _hours_ I just didn't know you were here or I would have been quieter. Promise. But he never keeps people in his room, least not his bedroom, but I guess this is his other room so not quite as weird but still a girl is new 'cuz he's funny like that, but I already cleaned yours and thought you were dead. I'll be better next time. Get you coffee for the chatter. Do you like coffee? I could find tea but Allie won't drink tea so we only have the worst kind." Kicking her feet, trying not to stare but still looking over May as if memorizing her.

That stream of chatter started up again and she knew now just to wait it out. The little bug certainly had a lot of thoughts careening around that head. And at such high speed, too! But she listened, nodding where needed.

Careful not to dislodge the other girl, she slid from the bed, letting her sleep shirt finally settle around her upper thighs where it belonged before she plucked her discarded sweater from the floor.

"Don't worry, Niffty. I was almost awake anyway. And some coffee sounds great for now. Tell you what, let me get myself fixed up and I'll meet you in the kitchen, okay? Next time I go out I'll bring tea for us. What kind do you like best?"

She smiled, wrapping herself in the oversized sweater again to make the trip to her room so she could freshen up and get dressed.

"Coffee! Got it! And tea, oh I love tea! Like green tea and matcha and rose hip and this spiced tai tea I had it's all so good..." Darting around the bed to straighten it up, fold Alastor's blanket, inspect the corners. Still she was ahead of May as they parted in the hall, the ladybug racing down to brew coffee and look around at food options. 

May couldn't help but shake her head at the absolute bundle of energy that seemed to move at light speed tidying up the place. _Wish I had that kind of energy. It would have made cleaning the old place so much faster_ she thought to herself with a chuckle as she slipped into her room to make herself presentable.

By time the younger gal made it downstairs there was already a second pot brewing, the ladybug returning from a side door where she had taken the first to the Overlord, loud jazz playing from under the door to methodical, heavy thumps that were only just audible in the kitchen. 

Toting her bright pink step stool around the petite lady was rifling through cupboards, humming to the tune.

May went simple today after the efforts of the outfit last night, her dark blue dress and tan shoes a marked difference to the brightly colored ladybug. She'd pulled her hair up again as well, a simple pony to match the outfit. Without the low neckline she'd had to secret the stilleto elsewhere, the blade finding the traditional place on her thigh in the event an impromptu excursion happened. 

As she passed, she glanced at the door where Alastor had secreted himself and wondered after the heavy thumps that rang out behind it before joining Niffty in the kitchen and smiled. The peppy girl really was adorable, zipping around like that with her little stool.

"You already eat, Niffty? I'm thinking some toast sounds good," she asked as she stepped carefully around the little blur of energy to reach the breadbox and fetch a couple slices.

Tipping her head back to beam at May, she nodded before resuming gathering items. "I had something when I woke up, but I like to cook! And the boss eats so much I help make some things ready for him because he gets busy and then he gets cranky. -Don't tell him I said that!- and you can't just have toast! Toast is just toast it's not food." Niffty bumbled about on her tasks, setting out the coffee and other base items she was mixing in bowls. Some just to put away again, others on the counter waiting.

"So how do you like it? Being here? Guessing you're to stay if he's letting you walk around and whatnot but I can't remember the last time he did. Modern kids, I tell ya! The ladies are awful and the men are pigs. Gentlemen don't last long here," a deep, wistful sigh, "hard to find a suit that isn't dog food anymore. Boss doesn't make friends anymore."

She couldn't help but giggle softly as the little chatterbox let slip about how Alastor would get hangry. _Don't we all..._ she mused to herself with a chuckle before miming zipped lips. The secret was safe with her.

Seeing the kitchen was apparently dangerous in the rush of that tiny woman, she carefully picked her way to the island seats and watched with fascination. The energy was just astounding.

"Oh! Me?" she asked as she realized the stream of chatter had turned to her. "I'm... getting used to it. I didn't exactly mean to end up here in the first place but--" she twisted a wry grin at the girl, remembering the mad adventure ending on his dinner table.

"But he's been incredibly kind, in his way, although I'm still never quite sure when he looks at me if he's seeing a meal or a companion. But he has been quite a remarkable... Individual"

The buzzing little creature seemed to know about her boss' unusual tastes, so she wasn't too concerned about her words getting back to the demon.

"What's he got going on in that room, anyway? Sounds like he's training an elephant to dance in there," she chuckled softly, leaning on one arm as she waited to see if the house-keeper ever slowed down at all.

Niffty was only too happy to fill in blanks, even where there were none. Bustling as she worked on making batches of dough or setting things to boil. "He really is, remarkable I mean, quite a man. Pined after him for years after he dug me out. Such a waste. Definitely kookie but a swell guy. Don't take it personal, Allie only sees people a couple a'ways and it won't be your doing if that meal ticket falls off the companion line. That'll be a bad day. Not exclusive, him, nope. But better than enemies or entertainment! Those guys, yeesh. Glad I never played that game." 

Pausing at the question the bug turned to the door. "Oh that? He's playing with knives. Well, actually he's playing with the cleaver I got him for holiday - I'm so glad he likes it I don't know knives at all - and just having fun. I think it's for dinner."

Realizing she'd never grabbed a coffee she slid from her seat now that the ladybug was busy but relatively stationary. Snagging a mug she filled it and cupped it in both hands, smelling it before she set it on the counter and found a bit of milk to drop into it, listening to the story the girl told.

She paused a moment at the idea that he might one day just tire of her and decide to just eat her entirely, shaking her head to clear the thought before it enveloped her, thankful that she was soon distracted by the explanation of the rhythmic noise.

"He did mention a fascination with them my first night here," she chuckled, leaning against the counter with one hip as she sipped the hot coffee. A bit more bitter than she usually went for but she needed the jolt. Her gaze drifted back to that door as one hand dropped, brushing the handle of the concealed blade he'd gifted her as she pondered quietly a moment over how he might be playing in there.

Niffty was unaware the direction her words had taken, or the misunderstanding, just happily carrying on in her half fantasy of playing home maker. "Oh he does! Did he tell you about his kills? Allie is amazing, he must have been a right terror back in the day. Lots of people heard about him but never knew it was him, now he's pretty open about most in Hell but it's still awesome. One of those super killers, knifed all sorts, when he wasn't being someone else, and he is good with 'em. Gets me fluttery thinking 'bout it! Handsome with an axe, hot with a claws but...damn. He can knife me anyday!" She giggled, the sound innocent and at odds with the topic. 

"Probably over heard something last night got him all in an itch. He does that. Works his thoughts out on things. Always moving and doing 'less he's not but that means stuff is good and then he gets bored and makes things a mess so it always comes back to chop, chop chop!" The ladybug punched dough in tune, laughing, and grinned up at her new friend.

The steady patter of the excitable housekeep made her smile a bit as she sipped her coffee. She did have to admit the excitement was cute in an odd way, though she sucked in at the wrong moment when Niffty went off about his claws and knives. Tears sprung to her eyes as she coughed, the hot liquid having gone right down the wrong pipe in her moment of surprise.

Hearing but not really understanding Niffty's words of sudden concern at her coughing fit, she placed the mug on the counter a bit more firmly than she probably should have as she grabbed a nearby kitchen towel to hold over her mouth as she worked out the issue. To want that painful experience! What had that girl been through to think that was attractive?

Spasms finally passing, she cleared her throat and wiped her eyes, waving Niffty off as she straightened herself out. "I'm fine--" she coughed out a bit again, reaching for the mug to take a drink to help clear her throat. "I'm fine. Just a bit of coffee down the wrong pipe." 

She wasn't about to offer up to this seemingly innocent creature the horrifying reality of what she claimed to want from the man, and she winced slightly as another thump rang out from that closed room, trying to keep Niffty from noticing the way her fingers tightened around that bundle of cloth in her grip.

Niffty didn't believe her, watching with soft concern as she worked and tried to rewind to what had startled May so. She looked so scandalized...oh. 

"Oh, I know what you're thinking! Trust me, I'm all grown and know what I'm saying. Allie misses half of it but I know a thing or two about men. I'm just little, but don't worry! No kid perverts here! And I'm waaay over him anyway. Just a daydream, you know? I'm sure you know. Who wouldn't want to pop when he goes all tick tock bomb man!" Resuming her tasks she waved May over to the stove. "Here, stir this." 

"So I'm prattling, I do that, but what about you? You picked some real pretty dresses and I love your hair! You're so cute! Hell was nice to you, all your bits and everything. What do you do? Watcha like? You're tidy, I like tidy, but you really should hang your clothes. I'm telling Allie to get you hangers, folding is just awful on wrinkles." Ceaseless, looking up now and then like she was too overjoyed to be silent. 

Midway Alastor came out, sleeves rolled up to prevent blood on his shirt even though it ended up spackling him anyway, in search of another pot of coffee. Without breaking stride Niffty smacked at him, chiding him not to contaminate the kitchen, and he backed off to let her start the brew.

Realizing Niffty had no honest idea why she'd reacted that way, she smiled awkwardly and just nodded. No need to derail her train of thought. But, thinking back to the strange feral thrill of having him eat straight out of her hands, she couldn't stop the blush that colored her cheeks. The girl had a point.

Crossing to the stove she happily helped out, stirring the steaming pot as Niffty prattled on, adjusting the flame down slightly to ease the angry bubbling. She just couldn't stop smiling around the little chatterbox. Well, certain exceptions for attempting to inhale coffee aside.

She was just about to answer when she heard the loud music pour out, unimpeded by the door as Alastor wandered out. Her quick eyes noticed the speckles of blood on his shirt, but was quickly distracted from the ideas of what horrors lay in the room as Niffty shooed him from the kitchen, turning to stir the pot with a soft giggle. The girl was fearless. Or Allie--she let out another chuckle at the pet name Niffty used--simply kept a very large soft spot for the small girl.

"You gals having fun? I see she enslaved you too." Alastor stood, banished with his hands up in surrender, watching them cook. 

"Of course! And she isn't enslaved, she's _helping_." Niffty was all grin, flicking flour at him when he only laughed, retrieving his coffee. "I should have been the Overlord, not you. I'm cuter!"

"Indeed. Frighteningly adorable. Overlord of cleanliness. Hell would shine!" He batted his eyes, taking the whole pot to retreat. 

"Damn straight!" She yelled back. "And don't come back till you're done! You're dripping Chip everywhere!"

"Thanks for the name, dearie. I'll get this labeled~" laughing from the ajar door, not bothering to close it and letting the cool air steam out from the cold storage. 

"Hows that jam coming?" Niffty didn't miss a beat, turning to poke her head up by May's elbow to peek.

Caught in a moment of humor, she pressed a hand to her chest in mock wounding. "Niffty! How could you?! Enslaving a poor innocent like me" she smirked, going back to stirring the thickening pot as she agreed with the banter. "Truly terrifying indeed. All hail Overlord Niffty" she laughed softly as she kept the contents moving.

The end of their conversation caught her attention. Ah. So that's what he was doing in there. He'd mentioned a separate pantry. Must be preparing a victim for storage, the idea working a shiver down her spine. But she was startled from her reverie by that chipper voice sounding from her elbow, making her look down at the shorter girl with an embarrassed smile.

"I think it's about ready for jarring. What do you think?" She stepped aside, letting the Tidiness Overlord pass her judgement as she glanced back over to that open door.

Giving it a critical eye, really just squinting at the pot, Niffty eventually nodded. "Yup! I'll get the jars. Shame it has to cool but that should last a bit. The stuff at the store is awful but I hate just stirring so thank you!" Back in a snap with the supplies and setting up, just as bouncy as before even with focus on hot contents. Completely forgetting any interrupted conversation as she chattered about fruit prices in Hell and how hard some were to find. The uses of jam. That even Alastor would eat it, even if he swore rum was the only sugar he needed. 

The music had been dimmed subtly, polite volume that shared the soft singing as he worked, no other voice as all produce had long since been silenced by death or cold. Just the domestic sounds of him working, occasionally sharpening a blade.

May just shook her head quietly as that stream of consciousness poured continually out of Niffty. "Glad I could help. I'm almost always willing to enslave myself to an Overlord as sweet as you," she chuckled, reaching over to fix an errant strand of the girl's hair, blown loose from the back and forth of her constant motion.

Now that Niffty seemed done with her hands, she took up her coffee again. It had grown lukewarm in the wait but caffeine was caffeine. She drank it down before setting the empty mug on the countertop and leaning back against it where she could see into that open door as she gripped the edge lightly. 

As Niffty prattled on about fruit and jams, she debated if she should approach or if he'd see it as an invasion somehow. But then he had told her to take up the space and be herself and herself was demanding that the curiosity be satisfied. Her claws tapped at the cabinets under the counter a moment before she decided.

"I'll be right back," she told the chatterbox as she pushed herself off the counter edge, mug left abandoned as she approached the open door and the strains of music drifting out from within.

"Have fun May." The ladybug hummed absently, giving her back a knowing look. 

For the rest of the house, stepping from vintage woods and tile to a concrete and metal room was a jarring bit of modernizing. A simple walk-about freezer turned morgue, the walls were lined with slatted shelves. Empty manacles bolted heavily to the back corner. One side held neat packages of labeled, wrapped cuts that could be any beast. Some were, a whole shelf lined with standard fare meats wrapped in clear cheesecloth. The others had names, or when those were missing simple details like 'insect male' or 'bruiser in blue'. 

The other side of the room had parts. Clearly the other half of a kill once he'd lost interest or been satisfied. Torn apart or just dismembered. All with some form of impaled heart, kept quiet and dead because it was a cold room, not a freezer. 

Alastor worked on a large medical style table in the center, astride the floor drain that was doing it's best to keep up to its duty. Coffee to one side, tipping his head back and forth to the tune as he worked, spinning a thin blade through his fingers so it skinned a section of leg - thrice the size of his- without even seeming to touch it. More orchestrating the flesh to dissect itself as the knife flashed. 

What scraps he removed he tossed to his shadow, sitting cross legged on the table across him with total solidarity. Snapping them from the air like a pet.

She hesitated a moment at the door as that cold air washed over her, that shrinking innocence demanding one more attempt to make her turn right back around before he could notice her lurking in the doorway and summon her over.

But the side of her wanting to find out more--Why? Why did she want to deepen her knowledge of this? that small voice screamed--won out, and the echo of her heels sounded over the music he worked to as she crossed the threshold.

Her gaze lingered a moment on the waiting kill before she looked up to the man and his strange shadow.

The shadow's eyes were on her before his, grinning like a piranha in blue, but his were sharp with his own curiosity. Finishing a cut, he hummed, tapping the spine of the blade on the edge of the table as he looked at her over his shoulder. 

Alastor looked merry as ever, barely surprised to see her there, and silent. Not a word to pull her questions out, no quip. Watching her survey the most orderly of his workshops, slowly raising a brow.

His silence probably caught her off-guard the most. He was always ready with a clever turn of phrase or a question to tease more knowledge out about her. But instead he just stood there, grinning like a damn Cheshire Cat.

_Well. He hasn't killed me yet, that's a decently good sign_ , she reasoned as she wandered a bit further in, still cautious and testing the waters. The glint of light off the collection of knives caught her attention, her lips twisting slightly in an unreadable expression as she spotted the cleaver Niffty had gifted him.

Finally she came up with an excuse. A lame one but she couldn't think of what else to say as she drew closer, just out of immediate arm's reach. "Do you need any help?" She asked, stopping herself from asking if he needed a hand because she was sure he had at least one stashed in here somewhere.

_No he didn't, but it sounded fun._ "I can always use a willing assistant." His grin stretched and for a moment his mind said 'no, don't' but he was already pointing with the blade to the shelf, indicating a leg and gesturing for her to bring it over. Backing up from the table with the obvious intention she was to stand _there_ between him and the edge.

Following the line of the blade, she paused a moment before crossing to the shelf and taking down the indicated limb. The weight of it was strange in her hands, not from any strength issues but more from the fact that it looked like it should still be mobile. It was so strange to see something like this, before it was cleaned and packaged up so neatly.

The chill of the cold flesh sank into her hands as she returned to the table to see he'd backed up. With a glance up at his shadow she laid the limb on the table before she rested her fingers on the edge of the cold metal, eyes glancing to the blade he wielded and quietly wondering if it had been one of these he'd used that first night. The thought of it made her heart race slightly as she waited for his next move or instruction.

At least he had picked one she could handle, perfectly human sized and shaped. Morbid as hell. 

Moving back to his place Alastor caged her between his arms, one hand finding hers and guiding it to lay flat on the ankle, holding it, as the hand holding the blade hooked her other hand with his littlest finger to puppet her with his movements. Practically like she was doing the cut herself. 

A guided tour of motions long imprinted on him.

"Now~ I'm sure you've never done this before. But it's quite simple." He made delicate cuts at all the joints, just snipping skin with the tip of the blade, before drawing a red line from ankle to hip. "People are only animals, especially in hell, and all the same applies. Some are best cooked intact, others need a bit of carving, but the technique is all the same." Even holding her he twisted the knife easily, freeing skin like peeling fruit. It was an older piece, not bleeding as freely but still fresh enough to be a deep red under the cream skin.

Those fingers trembled subtly under his as he guided it to weigh down the ankle, her heartrate spiking as he caged her in against the table between his arms. She swallowed nervously, trying to keep her breathing steady and even as his other hand hooked hers underneath his own.

His motions translated easily through her as he loosened the skin, so similar in color to her own that for a moment she shivered against him at the thought. The movements he puppeted through her reminded her of a dance, the music playing in the background only redoubling the association in her mind.

She listened to his words quietly, watching in amazement at the ease with which he separated that skin from the flesh beneath. She'd skinned chickens before, sure, but this was something entirely different. It required a much different set of skills and she absorbed the smooth motions he was so familiar with--the smooth stroke to divide the long sections of skin before the twist helped peel up the edge and revealed the muscle below.

Disconnected he used his larger hand, fingers curled between hers, to grab the bulk of pale flesh and tear it off like a sleeve. Like stripping a rabbit. It forced her to feel it, hand cupped in his, as he tossed the scrap to his eager shade. 

Setting the knife down he selected another, pressing it to the exposed knee and popping the joint free. "Bones like this are only good raw, cooking them is mighty nasty with such a thick set. I'm not sure your jaw could handle them, and certainly not your stomach if left." There was laughter in his tone, humoring himself as he guided the blade along the side. It made a delightful crinkling static sound before snicking on bone, dragging to partition meat he used her captive hand to peel up and back in a large clean piece. Looking for all the world like a flank of beef.

The feel of that loose flesh dangling from their interlaced hands made her grimace for a moment before he used her hand to toss the scrap to his shadow, watching as the shade snapped the flesh down hungrily.

Watching him pop the joint of the knee free was more familiar to her, especially as he deboned that muscle. Her own lips curled in a smile as he laughed, her own fingers tightening slightly on the handle of that knife between his as the blade was dragged up the bone. Deboning, it seemed, she was at least familiar with as he guided her to pull the flesh off the bone.

The contrast of the inferno of his heat with the cold of the room raised gooseflesh on her arms, finding herself yet again trapped between two extremes. Such a recurring theme with her time here.

Setting his chin on her shoulder he guided her, more truly giving her lead as he felt her start to pick up the motions, to fillet the rest of the upper leg. All that remained were neat cuts and a grisly bone then. 

"Give a beast a treat?" He released her free hand, gesturing to the shade that behaved so well despite a manic need in its eyes to chew that down. 

He couldn't miss the shiver that ran through her as he leaned his chin on her shoulder, her fingers tightening under his as she finished filleting and sectioning the meat. As he lifted his free hand away, she smiled, hefting the bone and tossing it gracefully to the shade to watch how it snapped it up.

A brief respite before it was time to do the same to the rest, but this time he rested his free hand on her stomach, only guarding the dangerous blade and humming quietly in her ear.

A soft noise and a shuddered breath escaped her as she felt that arm wrap around her to rest his hand on her belly, feeling the heat replace the cold of the table. He was making it _particularly_ hard to focus on the task at hand as he hummed in her ear, that devil, and she had to bite at her lip painfully to stave off the worst of the distraction. 

She could feel her cheeks and ears flushing bright enough to feel like they were truly aflame as she worked to finish cleaning the rest of what was once a leg. Once the work was done she tossed the remaining scraps to the shade, her aim badly off in her distracted state as her hand trembled obviously under his larger one on the handle of the knife.

It was good enough. Her work was sloppier than his but he gave no censure, locking eyes with his other half as it crunched bone and tendons, catching the foot when she almost missed. 

Silent conversation between them, thinking 'aloud' to himself. Do it. Don't. _Do it._

"Have fun, my dear?" He whispered, gently prying the knife from her to set it down. Trailing his claws on the back of that hand.

Her fingers uncurled slowly as he removed the knife from her grasp, letting out another soft breath as his washed against her ear. Even distracted as she was, she heard that silent debate he was having with himself in the crackle and tune of his radio.

The claws on the back of her hand earned him a muffled squeak, closing her eyes as she fought desperately the urge to press back against his frame, to flee the tension and find her head again. Her entire body was fighting it, tense and quivering as if she were about to snap while her pulse thrummed through her. Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded in answer to his question, barely even breathing at this point as she tried to keep as much of a level head as she could.

"Good. So did I~" He pressed her once, arm around her in a half embrace as he squeezed her in something like a reward. Or an affectionate apology. 

"You had the cutest little feet." Another whisper and then his shadow crunching that last treat, pure enjoyment of those twisted words in blue and red eyes as he let her go to take the step back to free her.

Her head dropped back against his shoulder for that brief moment as he squeezed her, unable to stop herself sinking into that moment of pleasure. His whisper earned a heady exhalation as she shuddered, the thoroughly flustered creature sagging against the table as he released her as she nearly panted for air.

One shaking hand lifted to her brow as he stepped back, the other clenching the edge of the table tight enough to turn her knuckles white as she closed her eyes. Yet there was no panic, no fearful words. Simply a few quiet moments of collecting herself in the wake of that expert teasing he'd given her. She hated it, but she loved it, the way he thrilled her so much before springing some new horror on her.

' _God, what is **wrong** with me?!'_ she thought, feeling the race of her heart slowly settling within that cage of bone again. Her gaze eventually lifted, locking eyes with the shade and knowing in some way that Alastor was seeing her face as well, flushed but with _hunger_ in those eyes.

Alastor had meant to end it there, expecting more lash back from his distasteful joke and to resume his work alone. May's fight to give him space and resolve whatever physicality she had was becoming commonplace, something he was willing to let her hide - he didn't think she would _dare_ look at him that way.

But it sunk into his blood as if he was the one on the table, staring into blue eyes feverishly bright in her face, seeing her flare with desire. It didn't matter what for because the feeling burned the same, ripping at his control as he filled in his own wants and cravings and felt his eyes darken at her shivering form. 

Shadow lunged forward to grab her face between its claws, dragging her bodily up onto the table and over itself in a backwards sprawl. Sharp and cool in an inverse of his heat, tangling with her limbs in a need to feel her excited shivers. Solid, uncanny, but real and latching onto her flushed face in something that could have been a kiss if it wasn't pure teeth. Unrestrained hunger from the Shade, a devouring greed for what it saw in her, while Alastor took a shuddering inhale and selected a slim knife from the table.

The sudden feel of the shade latching onto her face with those claws drew a surprised cry as she was pulled onto the solid tabletop without warning, hardly even feeling the impact of her shin banging painfully against it as she was lifted like a rag doll. Her frame shivered at the feel of that cold, animate shadow tangling around her, sinking that chill into the flushed heat of her body. 

More solid than she expected, and the sheer thrill of touch to her skin drew a delighted breath before she felt those teeth. Those drew out a _different_ cry, something more feral and desperate as she tried to pull back, even as she gripped at the shades wrists as if not wanting to escape. As if wanting more even as her mind told her it was so _wrong_ , that it was _Alastor_ and she knew his distaste for such.

But that hunger still burned. A hunger she couldn't identify. Something wanting to tear and bite and claw. To relive the thrill of feeling that heart give way and shred in her fingers. She was so deeply at war inside her own mind she didn't even hear his shaking breath or the faint metallic _snik_ of a knife being selected off the table.

He certainly wasn't about to let go. Shadow may have been running on impulsive instinct but not blindly, nipping and coaxing sharply with teeth and licking the blood it drew in small pricks. Claws curled around her jaw line to anchor her there, threatening to sink when she would pull away. 

Alastor was relying on the mute nature of his other half, repressing any sound he might make into a low rumble in his chest. Objectively it was surreal to see them tangled, feeling and seeing from two angles, but he admired the unraveling that was transcript in every line of her body.

Flicking a hand closed the door, and Alastor grinned, climbing onto the table behind her to straddle his shadows legs and sit back on his heels. Leaned a forearm down her spine and pushed her against the shadow to bend over her with a gap of air between his heat and her. "Best find your fangs, May~" Teasing as he used his other hand to undo the ties and zipper down the back of her dress, using the pin and friction alone to defend her modesty.

The little pinches of pain as Shadow drew her blood made her whimper in something approaching pleasure, the poor girl's mind starting to tangle the two things so tightly she couldn't tell them apart anymore. Feeling those claws prickle threateningly at her jaw line she hissed in a breath, teeth clenching as her claws dug into that strangely solid form trapping her.

Her mind reeled wildly as some fragment of her awareness sensed that familiar inferno of the actual man behind her. Her breathing had grown ragged and desperate, eyes glazed in a feral fog as the demon pinned her down against his shadow. 

As that zipper parted her back arched, exposing the warm flesh to the cool of the storage room, earning both sides of him a half-voiced growl as she writhed under that forearm. She wanted to submit and let them have whatever way they would. But she also wanted to fight, to create ribbons of cloth and flesh and she _couldn't_ , not trapped between them as she was and it was only pitching her further into that warped, feral state. She _growled_ his name in frustration, body struggling under him as she tried to find purchase and received none from the smooth table surface.

That single word made him lean back, breath catching in his throat at the delicious rush it sent through him. His shadow was quick to shift hold, arms curling under May's to hold her shoulder blades and keep their chests pressed together so Alastor could trail claws down her spine. "Pretty little beastie~" He hissed, feeling the sting of wounds open on his own skin and make his nerves brighten.

There was a pause with his hand splayed at the base of her spine, the absolute limit of polite which was absurd in all the rest, then he pinned her hips. Grinding her down against the Shade that squeaked mutely and writhed under her, making his own eyes bleed to dials and narrow in focus. Pressed the knife beside her spine and unzipped the top layer of skin with the table cooled blade.

Her teeth bared in a snarl as Shadow's arms curled around her to keep her pinned down against that strange, cold creature, her chest heaving as she panted for breath. The feel of those claws trailing down her spine earned them a powerful squirm and a noise almost like a groan of delight. Lunging in, her teeth found his shadow's shoulder in a savage grip, sinking in with abandon as she reveled in the sensations of those skilled, dangerous claws.

She released the shadow a moment later with a fresh groan as she felt her hips forced down against the chill of that strangely solid void, pinned there by the pressure of his master's hand. The feel of the knife tracing the line of her spine forced a feral cry from her throat, even as her teeth found the shade's neck again. Her weapon was entirely forgotten in her state, relying instead on her claws to rake at Shadow's sides as the delicate cut welled an equally lovely line of blood against her pale flesh.

Alastor could hide the shaking flex of the hand on her back, fangs grit audibly as she bit and tore his shadow. It hurt, it hurt a lot, and he didn't dare make a sound until the urge to groan lessened into a dangerous growl. 

Everything was hazing then, eyes bled to unseeing static as he bent to lick that line from tail to neck, his shadow's eyes his only sight. It was chaos and feral, cold fangs biting back, tearing the slope of her shoulder as she shredded him, the demon fixing her with his weight and tearing at the wound with hot breath and sharp snaps. Over the sweet taste of her he smelled his own blood, poisoned toxic rot and bitter iron, and it did nothing to disgust him. Losing view of himself, hearing his antlers snap and grow and the buzz of lights shattering. Viciously riding the feedback of savagery they had built without a damn care where it led.

The feel of that nearly painfully hot tongue against the screaming nerve endings finally stilled her, teeth bared in a nearly-demonic snarl of pleasure as Shadow bit into her own shoulder mercilessly. Even in that feral state she screamed out at the feel of the shade tearing into her shoulder, her fingers clutching at the figure she'd so recently been clawing at as she felt the flesh of her back tear under the Demon's teeth.

Some part of her felt him changing, shuddering as the lights flickered and burst under his feral need. She welcomed it, burying her face against the Shade as she submitted to the thrill of pain with a muffled noise of want. With the burning throb of her back answering most of that feral hunger her wanton abuse of the shadow lessened. Not entirely, but occasionally bearing down in her own savagery on the strange, cold creature, leaving marks that would have bled easily on anyone else as she voiced her pain and desire under the onslaught from above.

Indulgently he decorated her in shallow wounds, snapping up small bits of torn flesh but only raking and carving bleeding runnels across her back he could lick and suck the blood from. Bruising and covering her in mottled colors and blackred wells when his fangs sunk deep for a breath before moving on. He'd dropped his knife, he realized, when both hands were on her hips and sunk claw deep in the curve there, rumbling like a static monster. 

_This_ was pure passion in him, desire and possessive and _pride_ in his new darling that sunk under his skin and wound him tight as a spring, feeling the freedom crash through his veins and delighting in every horrible and sweet sound she made. 

Until it went south. Literally. A shock of primal want hit him so abruptly it shattered his control, too far mixed between senses and selfs and dizzyingly fast the demon was his shadow, replacing the shade form under her and panting through bloody teeth because her fingers were dug under his skin. Smashed together, and trying to get his bearings because he could feel her entirely against him and sweet _hell_ he needed to find his head. The demon whined, inhuman and tense, failing to completely blink the static from his eyes.

Her body writhed and shuddered as he marked her, not even realizing how he was so delicately shredding her. She only knew the burn of the nerves under those fresh tears and deep scratches he left behind that lit up with sensation, that throbbing ache of his claws sunk into her hips, the pressure of his fangs sinking into her skin as he pulled her blood to the surface of that pale skin. Her eyes were closed in utter bliss despite the screaming of those wounds, practically begging him for each new bite and gouge as his name spilled from her lips as sweetly as a prayer.

And then, suddenly, he was under her. It took a long moment for her addled mind to notice it but suddenly her palms were _burning_. Shade didn't burn, she realized slowly. Not like this.

Slowly her eyes opened to gaze at him, still glassy in her high as she gasped for breath. Realizing the burning frame she was clawing into was _not_ the shadow, her eyes snapped into focus, drawing in a panicked breath. How had that happened? _When_ had it happened?

With a soft gasping whimper she scrambled upright, her bloodied fingers releasing him as she clutched at the neck of her dress to keep it in place. The sudden movement opened those wounds on her back afresh and she gave a clipped cry, pressing one hand to her forehead again as she shook from adrenaline and the lingering glitters of that dark desire, knelt between his legs atop the table.

"A... Alastor. I'm..." she stammered out softly, certain she'd violated that unspoken rule he held. She let out a shuddering breath as the cold air bit soothingly into her fresh wounds, trying to shrink away from every point of contact in apology.

Automatically he caught her elbow, some sense returning as she wavered unsteadily in her retreat. Stabilizing her as he extracted himself off the table in the fluid hurry of a man who needed space _right now_ and completely denying the reason why. 

"Glad to...hear you've learned my name, dear!" He forced brightly, faltering a bit as the residual rush in his veins made his torn wounds pull more hotly with movement. She'd definitely left her own brand of gore across him. _Certainly he'd heard it enough and it was sweet-- no. Nope. Stop._

Reaching around her he fastened her dress, perhaps rougher than intended but he was reeling, scrambling for his usual distance and composure and right now even that small action felt like closure. Just enough to convince himself that had been a game - a dangerous one - and he was calling it over. Because he could. Total control. 

"Well that was exciting!" Offhandedly he leaned back, one hand seeking the bites on his neck unthinking to press them, testing. "But I'm sure it's time to check on Niffty. Little dear must be lonely, hm, and I'm starved!" And starting to ramble so he fixed his grin to a plastic, inscrutable smile and tugged her from the table, damn near ripping the door open and _leaving_ before she could scrutinize him any more than she likely had.

She was reeling herself as he awkwardly slipped from the table, her own smile weak as she tried to reorient herself to which way was up. The feel of that fabric dragging across the fresh wounds as he zipped her dress made her hiss in a breath and shudder. His panic was obvious even in her own reeling state, but she still blushed brightly as she realized she'd been practically _chanting_ his name not long before.

Her legs nearly gave way under her as she was tugged suddenly from the table. Gripping at the edge to support herself, she could feel herself shaking, trying to ignore the way her slowly-bleeding wounds dragged against her dress at every movement. She looked up as he spouted off that excuse, about to agree when he nearly tore the door from its hinges in his desire to flee.

Straightening herself out as best she could without a mirror, she followed him out, though at a much calmer pace. She even had the presence of mind to close the door behind her before she took a steadying breath, trying to calm herself should the little chatterbox pop up. It would be hard to explain the half-exposed and weeping bite mark on her shoulder away to the girl, especially after this morning. To say nothing of the marks the shadow had left all over her face and jawline, nor the scarlet stains beginning to seep into the fabric of her dress from her back.

Deciding she could do with some space as well, she decided to head to her room. At least there she had something backless she could rest in while those marks healed over. And it would let him sort himself while she was out of the way. _Hopefully_.

Alastor didn't stop until he was in his room, noting Niffty had made herself scarce as he imagined she would. That had been anything but quiet. No doubt she was off enjoying her filthy thoughts on some task somewhere, the little minx.

It was a chore to manually undress, pulling cloth from wounds and evaluating himself by mirror, but he welcomed the distraction. Cleaning and treating them only with a cream. His healing would erase them soon enough but the clinical action reduced his overworked mind to something calmer. And eventually the rest of him followed. Thank the gods.

Still, he'd rather avoid looking at her a bit longer. Pulling up his customary mood and a superior smile Alastor adjusted to chipper tunes, trotted to his office in mere day clothes, and resumed his tinkering at the desk in a bid to unwind.

It was with a sigh of relief that she closed her door behind her, thankful she hadn't encountered the girl in her current state. Even more thankful--May realized--she hadn't walked in on that feral, chaotic madness.

What the hell had gotten into her? She'd never done anything like that before. And why had she enjoyed it _so damned much?_

The thoughts raced each other around her head as she carefully removed her dress, hissing a bit as some of the wounds were pulled back open. She'd had to pick the neckline free from that bitemark as well before she tossed it on the bed. Poor Niffty would have more blood to deal with again.

It wasn't until she got in front of her bathroom mirror to examine her back that she noticed the smear of darkness across her face. Leaning in, she realized. His blood. The same that was still clinging to her claws.

Still shocked at herself, she mirrored his own treatments and cleanings, though forgoing her back since so many were unreachable. She'd just keep an eye on them, she decided, as she dabbed at the wounds with her own creams before digging a backless shirt and some shorts from her old wardrobe to let his marks heal over as she laid down, pulling one of the occult books he'd given her off a shelf in passing to give her something to pass the time. Not that she was able to glean much from it the way her mind kept tumbling. 

An hour, maybe two in and Alastor couldn't figure out why this new recording piece wouldn't calibrate to his microphone. A clear sign he couldn't focus well and rather than crushing the device -again- he ceded it was time to get up and stretch. Maybe eat, scratch that, definitely time to eat. 

It felt like he was out of tune as he moved to the kitchen, absentminded and staring dully at his options before pulling things out at random and relying on muscle memory to turn ingredients into food. Maybe a show later would help? He could take May and...no. Not a great idea yet. Maybe take his skin off for a spree? The idea of her seeing him that way came unbidden, as well as his doubt if she would flee or feel...something else. Scratch that too.

Maybe he'd just go knock over a television tower and call it a night. 

He absolutely wasn't sulking, even checking his face to ensure he was _fine_ and cooking on autopilot, eating small bits as he did and defusing in his meditations as static reigned supreme around him.

The rumbling of her stomach alerted her to the fact that she'd only ever managed a mug of coffee that morning before... well, before. She _really_ needed to stop thinking about that but it was hard when every movement she made tugged on a new wound or bruise. Glancing down at the book she found nothing familiar in the text and she shut it with a sigh below sliding carefully from the bed.

The idea of pulling anything over her back was completely out right now. Awkward or no with her old-fashioned patron, she was just forgoing it. She did him the kindness of some longer pants though, before she slipped out of her room and down to the kitchen.

And of course, there he was. Standing over the stove cooking but so differently than that first time she'd seen him. Almost mechanical. Even so it smelled good, coaxing another rumble from her belly.

Well, might as well get over the awkward hump. She padded in quietly, intending just to snag a small something and retreat again if needed. If ever there was a time to be cautious it would be now, she figured.

An ear flicked her direction before his eyes slid to her, glancing her over and narrowing on the signs he left on her. Not quite sure what to think about those, but feeling his smile go sharp on it's own. 

"Quiet little thing, you are. Joining me for supper?" He gestured broadly, only now taking stock that he'd been cooking for some time. Surely he could share. "I think I'll play at terrorism later so you'll be on your own tonight unless you have a desire to literally throw yourself into politics."

Her fingers rose to toy at the neck of her shirt as he spotted her and asked if she was joining him. Awkwardly fidgeting as she momentarily debated the answer before finally forcing an answer out.

"If you don't mind," she smiled gently. "I think I'll pass on the politicking though. You'll probably do better without me along." she chuckled, even as she crossed to the cabinets holding the various plates and cups.

"Rum or water tonight?" she asked over her shoulder, after lifting down a glass for herself. Her back was fully exposed to his gaze as this angle, framed by the softly-draping top.

Nodding, Alastor actually took note of finishing things he'd been idly mixing, stirred from his dead thoughts rather successfully. "Oh, I'm awful at it too. Attend the meetings when someone bothers to invite me, smile pretty at Lucifer. The rest is just whether I'm painting their lands red or not and whether I care they're angry. I think-" he turned to her, pausing and looking down her spine. It sent a chill of heat through his blood to be able to _identify_ his teeth marks in her skin. Well now.

"Think I'll crash a news station for a chuckle. See if the boxy brat shows to give me a good scuffle. Likely not, but it's worth the effort to hear him moan about repairs." Resolutely looking to his task of setting out food he almost forgot her question, then had to think back to his last glass. 

"Rum. Haven't had my medication for the day just yet!" He chuckled, joking about it in lieu of much thought. Recalling Niffty had interrupted him before he had his morning sacrement.

That pause had her curious why he'd trailed off seemingly mid-thought, glancing back at him again to see what the issue was. A flush rose to her cheeks as she caught him staring at her ravaged back for a moment before his thoughts picked up again.

Hooking a glass for his rum down as well, she picked up both and cradled them between the fingers of one hand, spying the rum bottle on her way to the table and snagging it with her free hand. Setting both at his place with a faint tinkle of glass, she returned to the kitchen with her own glass for some water instead.

One last trip and she had the places fully set now, the familiarity of the domestic routine easing what might have been awkward otherwise.

"I have to say in respect of all that, I'm glad I'm just an average Sinner. Hide from the Exterminators. Stay out of the way of the Overlords. Though, I guess I'm not exactly doing the best at that one," she chuckled. "Just. Stay safe." she finished quietly, that innocent side resurfacing in a gentle worried look.

Finishing with the table he opted to sit, forgoing manners almost against habit to keep his eyes off her back. "Well, you tried!" He joined the laugh. "And now I'm certain you'll meet a few more eventually. Active ones that is." 

Pouring his rum he waited for her, gesturing like before to take care of herself. "The least I can say is you don't have to worry about extermination any longer. Sometimes I wade into the fray but they never disturb my home. My other contracts tend to have house parties here that night."

After she plated some of the cooking he'd apparently churned out under autopilot, she slid into her seat with a wince as she accidentally brushed one of the deeper marks against the back of her chair before straightening.

Waiting for him to serve himself she listened in obvious interest as he continued on. Of all the benefits he'd mentioned so far, avoiding the worry of Extermination was definitely up there.

"Something tells me the other Overlords will find it intriguing when I start popping up," she chuckled, wondering exactly how that would go over. "But house parties sound fun, at least. I haven't gone to something like that in years"

"Intriguing is a word for it. I'm sure Valentino will take one look at you and offer me an ungodly price for you." His tone was dry with distaste, piling food and grumbling a dissonant static at his own soreness. By tomorrow he'd be fine, give or take the night's damages, but it still distracted him. 

"Miss Rosie will adore you, and I don't speak to the others very much. Worst you may get is a hostage situation, least would be insults or bribery." He shrugged, immediately wondering why he couldn't just hold still, and tucked into his food. 

"I dont keep many contracts but you've met the two that matter most. The others don't come here outside that time."

Her lip twisted in a clear expression of distaste at the idea of even being _approached_ by Valentino, but she started eating with just as much eagerness as him. She had been hungrier than she realized. Despite the thought of being involved in some sort of hostage situation the rest didn't sound so terrible.

For the moment she let silence settle, content to meet the basic need for food as she listened to that dissonant static, filing away the change for later mention if it got worse.

"I didn't realize Niffty was a contract. She's quite a darling little thing. Has quite the high opinion of you. I think Husk does in a way as well, the way he tries to look out for you. The way they both do, really," she mentioned it offhandedly. There'd apparently be worse individuals to be indebted to.

"Husker is a good friend. Puts up with the worst of me. A cranky old saint." He agreed, not at all humble about what a pain it was to be in his company. Husk never let him forget it.

"Both of them are special cases, came to me for the deal if you will. There are many reasons to sell yourself to a Lord in Hell and, well, I like to think I'm a fair businessman!" He chuckled at the absurdity of that, given his track record. "Most deals are petty, and most sinners die one way or another by the end, but those two will be around possibly longer than I. And I don't plan on dying!" Alastor was already serving himself again, feeling it fuel his ridiculous regeneration and mildly hoping not to have a crick in his neck when he laughed in Vox's face.

The chuckle from across the table showed she rather agreed with the description of the cranky bartender, her own plate soon refilled with a bit more food as well. Part of her pondered asking exactly she'd agreed to in her deal but decided against it. No reason to distract him as he was getting on a roll.

"Well then don't," she chuckled, smiling over to him, the subtle challenge in her voice hanging there as she reached up to rub at that marked shoulder--easing away a moment of soreness.

"Oh, have faith I've tested it but it's pretty hard to put me down. And then I just get back up!" He cackled, eyes sliding away as he got lost in brief memory.

"Best chance there was may have been decades ago. Suffered an angel to the chest and that took some zip out of me, but I've yet to see a sinner who has the mind to do it. Not yet anyway. I have my bets." He winked, enjoying the morbid hypotheticals of his unlikely demise.

The idea of someone legitimately trying to threaten him, it flashed a moment of anger through her. If she'd have had hackles they would have risen. Instead her fingers just tightened around her glass for a moment before she realized how strange the reaction was. Here she was getting angry over a complete hypothetical.

With a shake of her head, she went back to her meal, pushing aside for the moment her confusion over that reaction. Reaching for another topic to refocus her mind.

"So, which station of Vox's are you planning on wrecking tonight? I think it would put a particularly delightful kink in that Killjoy woman's day if she couldn't do her show tomorrow," she smirked, knowing the shared distaste for her they had.

Tapping his chin with flatware he mused, nodding side to side. "It would, true~ unfortunately that and all of the premier channels broadcast straight from his main center. I could hit that one, but there is a difference between a knife in the back and one in the heart." He made a joke, snickering before realizing she might not understand. "I'm not trying to anger Valentino as well."

"Nonono, I'll hit the new one he put up. Not a clue what channels it shows but it's within sight of mine and that simply won't do. I think flathead was just being cheeky." He gestured a direction he knew it was in, along the outer wilds north of his home. "It gives me a headache."

"A shame. I would have loved to imagine the look on her shriveled little face when she couldn't get her precious ratings." 

That mischievous smirk was back for a moment, leaving the last scraps of her meal as she leaned on the table's edge and propped her chin on one hand. The more comfortable option at the moment, honestly.

"Not that I'll need to, of course, but when should I start to worry about you?" she asked in a playful tone despite the serious question. "Or barring that, what should I bring you in the morning to perk you up again?"

The question caught him off guard, mid laugh about Killjoy as they shared their dislike of the vamp, and only made him laugh more in an effort to lighten his surprise.

"Worry about me? Why..." What could he say? 'When he doesn't come home?' No, he did that now and then, and his moods were often 'worrying'. "I suppose in all honesty when the radio dies. If there is silence I'm offline and well, I suppose you'll feel it. Or Husk would break down the door looking for me." Musing aloud with a soft chuckle, biting his lip in any attempt to take his safety seriously. "Perhaps if I'm truly out the house would show, I know the locks would fall. But honestly I heal _abnormally_ well, so it doesn't come up much!"

He blinked, then slid into a sly grin and reached to poke her nose. "I think you can figure out what brightens me up, my little Mayflower~"

She blushed as he poked her nose, loving that little name he'd apparently bestowed on her as evidenced by the smile that spread across her face again. She couldn't help the sheerly _girlish_ giggle that escaped her, that innocent reaction so in contrast with the lingering marks of earlier. But she appreciated the knowledge, knowing she had a way now to measure the unknown at least a bit.

"Thank you. I'll be sure to bring you something, then, if Niffty isn't here first. Oh! About her. She wants some tea. I'd love some too, honestly. So, if you happen upon some chamomile or chai while you're out we'd both dearly love it," she smiled, recognizing the amusement in giving him a shopping list amidst his plans of destruction.

It warmed his smile a bit, hearing that carefree sound, easing him into a faux gasp of suffering. "Tea? Oh my, I'd never remember that. Let's see~" A hard backed stationary pad was plucked from the air with a pen, the Overlord taking on a studious expression. 

"Vandalism, Mayhem, three doses of public terror...should I make it four? Hm. And Cha..mo..mile..swill..." He spelled out the last, grinning mischievously. "Anything else while I'm out, honey?" Batting his eyes.

Her laughter joined his at the gentle ribbing, settling a moment before he coaxed a giggle out of her again. Reaching out, she flicked his pen with a claw, making a juttering line through his playful list as he batted his eyes. But her mischievous grin was back.

"Oh, but of course, dear!" she teased, ticking off her joking list on her fingers. "A mink stole, or perhaps a nice fur coat if that's out. Bit of diamond jewelry. Oh and see if you can find any nice heels for me again. And be quick about it!" She smirked, before playfully wrinkling her nose as her tongue poked out in a teasing razz at his playful attitude.

Pursing his lips, because this was just too funny, he nodded and corrected his grip on the pen. "Right, right you are dearest. One...sturdy...paddle." He wrote, tossing the list in the air where it vanished with a comedic 'poof'. "I'll even get it fur lined, although you might have to settle on fox. Mink is out of season." He winked, draining his rum to keep from laughing. 

Playful May was such a delight over that scared little thing he'd brought home.

The blush that seeped straight to her ears showed him the joke had landed, even as she concealed that smile behind her fingers playfully.

"I don't see how that would help" she snickered, eyes glittering in mischief. "One can't really call a paddle an accessory, after all. More of a tool, wouldn't you agree?"

"I think that depends entirely on how you use it~ Why, I make tools into toys everyday!" He meant it literally of course, fully thinking of knives and microphones and so many other things that did not just turn into innuendo with the chewed up woman at his table. The shadow laughing from the kitchen could just fall in a pit. 

"Besides," he pointed with his fork, finishing his meal, "you clearly asked for it. It's on the list!"

The arch of an eyebrow and the slight incline of her head showed he did have a point before she leaned in against the table again, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers as she chuckled. 

"It's not my fault you can't spell," she giggled, batting her own lashes playfully now. "You should know better, you are older than me after all. I think there's a term for that, a dashing man going after a younger woman. You cradle-robber, you." 

She chuckled softly, glancing over at the movement to see the shadow laughing in that odd silent way in the kitchen and smiling to herself.

That struck a funny little nerve, his smile stretching to something toothy. "Dashing? Me? I think you may need your eyes checked dear!" Snapping the table clean he stood to spin around it, ducking to murmur close "And I've already got you~" Before straightening to overlook the kitchen was tidy and he could go get himself in order for mayhem. Humming merrily and certainly more jazzy in his tone of step.

For all the laughter of his other half a flirty dinner had actually been rather fun! How odd.

That little squirm of delight was undoubtedly noticed as he murmured that claim into her ear, those cheeks flushing again at how he turned that joke into such a teasing flirtation.

' _God but he was good at that!'_ she thought to herself as he looked over the tidy kitchen before he tapped his way out of the kitchen, certainly springier than before. Maybe she'd have to get him in the habit of sharing meals, she thought as she wandered into the library. For his occasional moods aside, he seemed to enjoy himself.

Soon the easy-going tune of "The Entertainer" was ringing down the hall from that piano, his new house guest polishing another old skill into a fresh shine.

The upbeat song was a sudden surprise but it carried Alastor through dressing and collecting his things with a happy grin. Seems his new pet had a variety of fun talents to show him, and piano was exceptionally welcome. Humming along he didn't think to interrupt her as he left, the only indication the demon had departed for the night a certain lessening of pressure in the atmosphere in the home.

She wasn't sure when exactly he left but at some point she realized the house just had that strange _empty_ quality one has when others are gone. Knowing he'd probably be back in the wee hours, she decided to get sleep--remembering this time to place her dress out in the event Niffty popped up again.

The radio that had once sat above her refrigerator had been relocated to her nightstand, letting her listen to whatever music or static might drift in during his escapades at the rival tower. With a bit of careful tossing she finally found a comfortable way to sleep and nested herself in happily to a much needed, _deep_ sleep.

Niffty was not called and for a very good reason: Alastor knew better. Going on his destructive attacks was insanely reckless and the tiny bug would worry herself to pieces and it was simply impolite to put her in that position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll admit I'm curious what comments this could illicit. 
> 
> Scream if you liked it, folks~


	5. Soldiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every forget other people have to deal with your consequences too? 
> 
> I do. Not very fair, I'll admit that.

It was only an hour or two before dawn when the Overlord was walking the lane back home. A long, stiff walk back from the television tower that had been torn down with grand explosions and collateral. Already it was on the earliest news, small snippets catching his ear on the trip home from the residences he passed, early commuters practically throwing themselves out of his path. He liked to think it wasn't due to the scent of charred flesh and trail of blood behind him. At least _most_ of it wasn't his own. 

The effort it took to maintain his proud posture had him gritting his teeth by time he closed his door behind him and sagged against the wood. Catching his breath and pushing on through dizziness to make the most direct path to his room. It was a goal, a fixation that meant he paid no attention to the mess he made dragging on the wall or even remembered he had a housemate. Laying down in the safest place in Hell for the wounded Overlord was priority, and it was stubbornness that got him there. Laughing brokenly at just how glorious the night had been, how much he hurt, curling up on his bed without even looking at himself. It was a scene he didn't want to see. Better to fall asleep laughing than seeing _that_.

The increased crackle of the radio in her ear drew her from sleep unexpectedly early and she yawned widely before sitting up with a short hiss of breath at the soreness that had fully sunk into her back and shoulder during her sleep. But it definitely helped clear the cobwebs faster than nearly anything else. Not exactly the way she'd intended, she thought to herself, but finding the bonus where it lay.

Unaware of how much he'd sustained over the night, she took a few moments to test the wounds she could reach, finding this time a layer of light fabric at least wouldn't have them screaming all day. Once done putting herself together in a lightweight dress and untangling her hair from her horns, a daily process she always found annoying, she figured she'd go start him some food. And she had every intention to.

Until she saw the smears on the wall of the hallway. The marks of damage on him leading toward his door. Even knowing his signal was present from the radio it had her heart leaping into her throat.

All thoughts of food abandoned, she ran the other way, not even stopping to knock on that red door as she burst into his outer room. "Alastor!" came the call, her voice filled with worry as she approached the door his shade had opened for her the other night.

Dozens of eyes watched the girl when she burst in, shadowed creatures shaped like mismatched dolls and monstrosities on high alert with their Master wounded. The demon's shade didn't appear, wouldn't leave his side, but her call was answered with recognition and the shadows allowed her to pass with a certain reluctance.

The door wasn't even locked. It had been a brief spark of focus to even close it behind him, and besides a tired flick of an ear he was too drained and crashing as adrenaline dropped to do anything but lay on the mattress he was ruining, hazing in morbid enjoyment at the smell of carnage. It was only May, and she had seen him covered in blood before. This was just…. More.

The door into that room opened more slowly, fully aware she was being closely watched and terrified of what she might find. Finally spotting him on that bed she'd so recently rested in, her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped at the sight of him.

Releasing a wordless sound of worry, her light steps soon had her at the bedside, hands fluttering as she warred with herself between touching him and not. 

"Alastor... Alastor what happened?" She finally asked gently, sinking on the edge of the bed near his crashed-out form. Careful even now, she leaned over him, one hand delicately reaching out brushing a stray fringe of his hair away from his face, eyes taking him in as she tried to think. "What can I do?" she finally asked, barely above a whisper in her worried state

His eyes were rolling when he cracked them at her, the effect of red static without focus. The only thing that kept him from flinching away from her face was the weight he felt, enduring a delayed shock he had put off too long.

Absently he pondered what she saw, not even sure himself. The walls broken with impact, the claws he hadn't avoided... Mostly he remembered the electrocution, cables searing into him - maybe that was why his throat hurt. Hm. 

Oh right, May was staring at him. What an awful sight for her. Alastor tried to give a proper smile, taking the deepest breath he could. "Jus'a fight. Vox. S'fine." Again he was chuckling awfully, knowing his skewed version of 'fine' was absolutely cracked and finding it hilarious right now.

Despite her worry she frowned at his answer. Any _idiot_ could see he wasn't "fine". She shook her head and pressed him even as her hand drew back. "You're not" came the soft response, not trusting her voice to remain steady if she spoke any louder.

"I can _see_ you're not _fine_ , you stubborn idiot. You're bleeding all over your bed and you can't even focus on me!" she chastised him, her voice strained through the harshness of her words as she gestured at the bloody sheets. She was simply too worried to care about his reaction now, if he could even manage one. Unsure of what to do with herself she curled her fingers in her lap, fists clenching around the skirts of her dress until it wrinkled in her grasp. 

"Just let me _help_ you. Please." that last part was almost a beg, braving the potential of his anger as she reached out and rested her fingers on one of his hands lightly.

The answering snarl was token, barely a crackle as his eyes flickered black like a faulty bulb before he gave up the effort to be hostile. It was ridiculous. He was immortal, he was home, what help did he need? Silly frail.

"Fine~" A huff, hearing his shadows chatter quietly with the same concern in tone she held. "Do what...ya like." Two fingers twitched in a clueless gesture, his brows drawn tightly as he expressed he had no direction. This _was_ his treatment. To lie down and pretend he was whole until such time he was. Easy, low maintenance, and heavily relied on being able to regenerate.

Giving a frustrated huff of her own she rose from the bed harshly, starting to pace as she tried to think. What could help him best, or at least enough to pull him together a bit so maybe he wouldn't be so crashed out? Her nervous energy started to overflow in soft crackles and snaps of electricity around her and she paused in her pacing to calm herself. Wasting her own energy like that definitely wouldn't help

Chewing at her lip nervously, an idea began to form. It was probably insane to even try it but it might just give him a jolt of energy to help him along. It would be worth it. Probably. Hopefully.

She left his rooms only long enough to fetch that glittering blade he'd given her, and then she was back, clutching the sheathed blade in both hands as she sank back into the edge of the bed. Slowly, so as not to make the protective shadows nervous about her intention, she drew the blade and let out a breath. _Here goes nothing_ she thought to herself, remembering how he'd paid the witch in blood the other day.

Gritting her teeth against the pain she slid that razor edge across the meat of her palm, hissing in a breath at the sensation of her skin parting. But the clean cut bled easily and she cupped her palm to let the dark liquid gather for a moment before she set the blade carefully aside and turned to him.

"I have no idea if this will work. But please..." she spoke softly, holding the wounded hand out to him as she brushed her other hand across his brow to gather his attention, unsure if he realized what was being offered.

She had almost gotten his hope up that she was going to let him sleep when she left. It was hard to hang onto consciousness but he'd rather heal than flatline and that focus had him only partially aware until she touched him again and he startled visibly. Squinting his left eye open at her and trying to track her meaning.

The scent of blood answered at least his first question, making his smile twitch. Did she have any idea what she was doing making an offer like that? No, probably not. But he had no obligation to borrowing some of her power for a bit.

He should teach her blood magic later. A dizzying thought as he fumbled to tip himself up at all with a short nod to her. Hissing as he forced himself to grab her wrist to accept a mouthful of pooled blood before he pressed her palm to his throat - surely one of his worst injuries by how crisp and numb it felt. "Power up." He ordered hoarsely, fully aware he just told her to shock him.

Her shoulders relaxed as he struggled up just enough to accept that offering, thankful that at least it hadn't made things worse. She let him move her hand as he needed with that grip on her wrist, watching that pool of scarlet slip away. The cut throbbed but she worked to push the pain to the back of her mind. She'd deal with it later. Once she felt like he was more stable.

So when he pressed her still-bleeding palm to his throat, she was confused for a moment. It took her a moment to understand what he meant. He... _wanted_ her to shock him?

Swallowing a bit, she closed her eyes and let out a breath. The crackle of that electric field flickered in and out a few times, pulsing against his throat as she cycled up. It was like feeling a static whine build inside her and every nerve tingled as she channeled that energy down her arm. Just as the whine in her head reached a fever pitch she released it, sending that jolt into his throat with a soft yelp at the spike of searing pain from her already- tender palm.

It was just one more shock, that was what he had told himself and logically after suffering a few dozen over the evening what was one more in the grand scheme of things? Feeling her surge up, obedient and innocent, Alastor recited the simple rite in his head to make this beneficial and tensed. Beneficial didn't mean pleasant.

A night of being shocked to smoldering meat did not leave him much tolerance for the pain. Doing all he could _not_ to just snap her wrist off the demon seized, snarling in a high whine and feeling his eyes fizzle painfully in his skull. He was pretty sure they were smoking, _again_. 

But half the pain was nerves turning back on, regenerating from numb trauma to the scream of injury as he drained that jolt from her like a battery, taking any scrap she offered and amending his own regeneration that much faster for a brief time with her totally willing and unknowing blessing. It certainly helped him breath easier, even if he was shuddering like a seizure patient as he came down.

She whimpered as that grip tightened painfully around her wrist, practically able to feel the bones grinding together. As he seized and twitched under the electric charge, she tried to keep her breathing even, keeping that outpouring of energy as steady as she could.

As she felt her head start to swim she realized she probably sapped too much of herself. Scratch that, she definitely had, and the field juttered out as she sagged next to his shuddering form, breaths coming in soft gasps. It had been a while since she'd drained herself to such a point.

After the outpouring of energy she was suddenly exhausted, but she fought it off to watch him. Not that she really could leave his side with that tight grip on her wrist still pressing her hand to his throat.

When his body would obey commands again he let go, still panting brokenly in aftershocks but dropping his hand from hers with a muttered apology. It was distracting feeling his deepest wound knit, a nauseating burn under his jumping nerves, and he was a bit glad he couldn't see if she was watching or not or what state his clothes were even in to see his damages. 

But he felt better! A small degree, surely, but it was still improved and his throat under her hand certainly felt more scalded than scorched now which really was all that mattered. Alastor would happily strap a limb back on or pluck out his eyes, but going mute was always a new level of hell. 

Vision a bit blurred, he reached out slowly to pat what he thought might be her arm. "You okay...Miss May?"

She did have to take the moment to rub her wrist as he finally released that grip, allowing her to lift her hand away from his throat. It would undoubtedly bruise later but it wasn't broken at least. The cut she'd made had cauterized under the electric field, which saved her that trouble, as well. 

As he reached out and patted her arm, she smiled despite her exhaustion. Maybe he wasn't fully back to his normal self, if normal was ever a term that could be applied to him, but at least he seemed more comfortable than before.

Her fingers patted his reassuringly as he spoke, another soft smile he probably didn't see crossing her tired face. "I'll be fine. Just overdid it a bit. I haven't fired off like that in a while but, you seemed to need it more than me."

"You pack quite...the spark." He wheezed, trying to convey some humor but falling a bit flat. That seizure had really drained him, all gifted energy going to an attempt at stemming his bleeds.

She flexed her damaged hand a bit, just checking herself over a bit as well. She'd really need to take a rest before she ended up completely shredded. "Are you feeling better?" she asked gently, settling her hands back to her knees gently, letting him rest without actually touching him.

"I'll live. But that...you shaved off the worst. You're...sweet." He felt like he was wilting, the structural strength in him giving in to exhaustion. Tempted to just curl over and sleep in front of her but his instincts screamed at even thinking it, trying to force him to keep up appearances.

"I'm glad. I told you to be careful!" she chided softly, unable to help the protectiveness over his battered state. At least now she knew he was more stable. But he was fighting to stay awake and it wasn't doing him any good.

Slipping from the side of the bed as smoothly as she could, she plucked the spare blanket he'd been picking at idly the other night from his chair. It was a bit tattered on the edges but it would suffice for now. Thank goodness Niffty hadn't absconded with it for repairs.

"Rest. _Sleep!_ " she commanded gently as she pulled the blanket over his form. "I'm going to go get a bit of food and I'll come back upstairs. I'll check in on you later to see if you need anything."

Not waiting for any argument he might try, she departed his room after retrieving her knife, making sure to close both doors before she went to find some food to revitalize her energy. And coffee. Since she doubted tea had been at all on his mind by the time he'd been on his way back.

Alastor just stared at her, baleful and slightly confused but unable to say that he had been careful. He hadn't. He quite distinctly hadn't done his best defense and egged the other Overlord on to a frothing fury. Why? Because it was fun watching him glitch. 

Watching her go with a short huff, he wasn't even sure why the blanket. He wasn't cold. Or why she was so worried, he was practically her _captor_ , no matter the games they played. But...he had to admit. This was a bit nicer than all the nights he just stewed in his own gore for days of delirium alone. Such a nice pretend wife he had...and down he went, only half lucid as he curled into a ball and dropped so deep into hibernation the radios all burned to static, all ambient stations crackling quietly.

She heard him drop into that deep sleep as the radios all went to crackling, hissing static and she let out a relieved sigh as she wandered her way to the kitchen.

Too exhausted to make much of anything she set a pot of coffee to brewing as she dug through the food supplies. A jar of the jam she'd helped Niffty with surfaced and she smiled. No matter the little bug's opinion, May found toast to be a completely acceptable form of food (especially with jam), and soon enough she was enjoying some alongside the hot brace of coffee, having to admit the home-made version _was_ better.

After tidying, she returned to her room, determined to stay awake with some reading in case he needed her for some reason. But, despite her best efforts, sleep claimed her too and soon she was slumped in her rocking chair with the book she'd been reading laying open on her lap.

Morning passed quietly, both exhausted demons left in peace. It wasn't until midday that silence was interrupted and even then Husk barely made a sound. Seeing the bloody walls was all the confirmation he needed of what he saw on the news, distorted by the media as that was.

Doing a quick sweep of the house, or quick as you can when reality bends and part of the search is a goddamn swamp, he was careful when he clicked open May's door to look in on her, wings pinned and tail bristled in worry. Half of him expected the worst when the girl was left alone with an injured maniac, and he couldn't help the deep relief to see her napping. Padding over to save her book and give her a sniff - then another as he caught the edge of wounds visible under her neckline, and clear his throat as he squatted in front of her chair.

The noise of someone clearing their throat nearby pulled her awake, blinking a bit before she let out a startled shout at the unexpected sight of Husker squatted in front of her. The rush of adrenaline shot her straight in her seat, much to the complaint of her ravaged back. The feel of it made her wince a bit--it felt like one of the deeper ones might have pulled open at the sudden movement.

"H-husker! What are you doing here?!" She asked with maybe a _bit_ too much severity but, to be fair, he did just about give her a damn heart attack just now. "Sweet hell you scared me." 

She rubbed a hand over her face, pausing as she remembered Alastor's words about Husker breaking down the door and for a moment she froze, only to sigh in relief as she heard the steady sound still issuing from the radio. Still just asleep.

Husk recoiled with a paw up, wings flared when she startled so hard, scowling and watching her until she calmed. "Christ, I tried doing it easy. D'fuck you want, claws?" The last time he'd woken someone, a drunk on his bar, a patted hand turned to sliced meat when the guy jerked wrong.

"I'm here checking that sleeping not-beauty didn't leave you in pieces on the way through. Shits all over the news." Grouching he straightened up, shaking his wings back in line which incidentally dropped a few feathers. Following her gaze to the radio as well, studying the pitch.

She gave him an apologetic expression as she got out of her seat, brushing her dress into order after the startled jerk. "Sorry. I just didn't expect to see anyone. God..." That last bit was directed more in a soft hiss at the burn of an angry wound reopened, flexing her shoulder a bit to try to calm the thing, not realizing her dress had acquired a seeping stain of blood near the shoulder blade. In a spot she obviously couldn't reach herself.

"I'm fine. I promise. I already..." She trailed off a bit--could she call it just checking in? "I already got him settled. He was a mess. I don't know what he did last night but he's sleeping now. He'd said something about wrecking one of Vox's new towers over dinner last night. I should probably check on him, actually."

She'd said the last as she turned, intending to exit the room to go check on the unconscious Overlord, not realizing it showed the chimera another obvious wound.

"You can check him after I check you. Why do ya look like you need stitches?" It was easy to lean over her against the door, claws spread on the wood as he frowned down at her shoulders. "Red can wait. Yeah, he should be a mess. There's like five fucking minutes o'film of him and that bastard crucifying each other on a burnin' building. Tentacles and shit and gutting each other before Vox fried the damn system. I practically followed his trail home, dumb fuck."

She shot him a confused look at his insistence, but that description only heightened her concern for Alastor's state. Her hands lifted, about to move his claws from the door so she could exit her room. It was then that her dress shifted enough that she felt that wet stain, cold against her back. _Shit. That's why he was so concerned,_ she realized 

"I-it's not what you think" she stammered out awkwardly, her face blushing brightly as she remembered how she'd earned all those wounds that obviously had Husk concerned. Clearing her throat awkwardly, she rubbed at her neck a bit--she knew Husk wasn't going to accept just her insistence that things were fine. "Things got a little, well, _feral_ yesterday..." she trailed off, hoping the man didn't press for more. Her face was already burning hot enough without the details.

"Uh huh. 'Cuz I'm the one thinking shit " He point blank called out her blush, expression deadpan as he leaned further on the door, crossing his arms and one ankle over the other. He knew it wasn't nothing like that, never had been with Alastor, and he'd pluck himself before jumping to that conclusion. 

"Now I ain't gonna strip ya, but you ain't leaving till you're cleaned up. And if ya need help with something I'll do that. I know wounds." With a nod he stared pointedly at her en suite door, stubborn and not caring if it pissed her off. He wanted to keep her alive, fuck it if she liked him or not.

With a sigh she shrugged, gesturing in a bit of frustration at his insistence. But she turned and headed to her bathroom, arms contorting behind her to undo the top of the zipper along the back of her dress as she went. If having the protective feline clean her wounds was the trade-off she guessed there were worse ones.

The bite mark the shade had torn into her shoulder was more fully visible with the looser neckline now, and she busied herself gathering a towel and the supplies he'd probably need. Depositing them on the countertop, she unzipped her dress the rest of the way, revealing her bruised and torn back as she waited for the stubborn creature to do what he felt he needed.

Husk followed to watch out of his peripheral until she seemed settled, only mildly distracted by her age and sex. He was dead but not _dead_ and really had to look at the unmasked wounds to avoid any other thought about what it looked like to put them there. 

Growling at himself he grunted at the full picture. "Yeah girly, time and wishes won't close those nice. You want stitches Al will have to pull outa you or a shit ton of tape?" Despite his gruff words he was gentle with his claws, tipping her head forward to wipe her back down with a wet towel. Scowling at the antiseptic she pulled out he dug through the upper shelf to pull out a milky one that wouldn't burn so much. Ain't nice to a lady. 

"Feral, huh. He used you like a damn chew toy." Using the cloth because he'd just shred a cotton swab, he worked on recleaning anything that didn't look far into healing. Especially her neck. Alastor would be insufferable if that scarred.

She shivered slightly as he wiped down her back, eyes closing as the grumpy man so gently cleaned her wounds. Even then some of the touches, delicate as he was, earned him a hissed-in breath between clenched teeth as her claws tightened on the sink edge.

"I don't care. Stitches are fine. Easier to work around anyway," she grumbled softly, one hand rising to hold the front of her dress up as Husk worked on her neck, blushing again at his words.

"I... Uh..." she started awkwardly, before chuckling a bit at the memory of her own temporary madness. "Well, I kinda chewed on him, too. His shade anyway," she finished, blushing brightly as the admission of how much of a beast she'd been as well. _And I liked it_ she thought to herself, the realization only spreading that blush all the way to her ears.

"Don't wiggle then and I'll be quick. Good at stitches." He mumbled a lot, pulling out the supplies and pushing her further forward to start on the most sensitive areas first. Best practice to get them out of the way before tolerance dropped. 

"What, you kids have a cannibal necking session or a fucking fight?" He had to laugh because he knew what it looked like, but Alastor just _didn't_. So whatever _his_ explanation for this bloody party they had was sure to sound like some grade A insanity. "Al tastes like shit, hope you learned your lesson."

Husk truly was quick with a needle, not pausing to add any bandages or meds, working on stitches alone to get them out of the way. Only pausing to be careful up on her shredded shoulder.

Her jaw clenched as he worked on stitching her up, doing her best to stay still as possible. Even so, she let out the occasional soft noise of pain or muttered curse as the needle dug through her skin or the thread pulled.

She couldn't help but laugh at Husk's joke though, even if it was clipped by a hiss of pain and a mumbled "fuck!". At least he was quick, sparing nothing in an effort to get the worst done before her body dropped.

"I think it was somewhere in the middle of that?" she joked back. Honestly even _she_ wasn't quite sure what exactly it has been, only that it had been _fun._ "But I didn't notice the taste. Maybe it's just you. Something you wanna tell me, Husk?"

Even with pain edging that mischief-filled response, she couldn't resist. Might as well needle him a little. Only seemed fair since he was wielding one all over her back and that shoulder.

Rolling his eyes probably wasn't the response she expected, but at least he didn't stab her like he would Alastor. "I know he tastes like death. Smells like it too most the'time. Can't be cleaning up after his ass long as I have and not get a few face fills now'n'then." 

Finished with stitches he doused the angry flesh in the cooling antiseptic again, laying tape over the threads to keep her clothes from snagging. "And don't go getting perv on me~" He flicked her ear, turning away so she could fix or change her clothes.

The roll of his eyes made her chuckle anyway, even as she hissed in a bit as that cold sank into the freshly aggravated wounds. But it helped, and she relaxed a little as the angry nerves settled down again. At least now nothing should break open unexpectedly.

The flick to her ear made her smirk, straightening enough to give him a mocking tongue through the mirror before he turned away to give her some privacy.

Adding that dress to the items for Niffty, she pulled on another before rapping on the bathroom door frame, tidy and decent again as she gave him a gentle smile. "Thanks, Husk. I do appreciate the help..."

Husk felt like a bonafide gentleman for _not_ flipping her off. A goddamn stroke of manners right there. Passing her to the door he palmed the top of her head, patting with his whole paw just to be rough. "Yeah, yeah. I'm an honorary fuckin' doc after Al." And if she didn't have the sense to take care of herself around a rabid cannibal then he'd add her to his list.

"Now I gatta go get dangerfloof's head outa his ass, so you wanna poke him before or after." He laughed, ears laying low. "Or...heeellp?" It sounded like an awful idea, and awfully mortifying to Alastor and he couldnt decide which was sounder reasoning.

She couldn't help but smile at the self-deprecating humor Husk seemed to constantly display, carefully raising her arms to smooth her hair again--no need to pop a stitch right after he'd finished them after all.

"He's probably less likely to kill me right out for waking him up," she chuckled as she opened the door of her room and stepped into the hall. "Maybe you can stave off your own death with some coffee. I presume you know where to find all that if you managed to find me. He'll probably want some."

She was only a few steps down the hall toward Alastor's door when she called back. "Better bring his rum, too, now that I think about it. Better to be safe than sorry."

And with that she slipped with a faint rustle of her dress through that outer red door to see how Alastor was faring after some rest.

The old man grumbled his agreement, although he was amused she knew the beverage priority pyramid of the man. Feeling lazy he just jumped down the stairs, fetching as 'asked' so she could have a private moment. No way he missed that lack of subtly. It was almost cute.

Little shadow gremlins watched her again, far less hostile but just as curious. One even pulled free of the masses, squinting up at her from a doll like form with mismatched horns. After a moment it opened the door, scuttling in ahead of her to bounce weightlessly onto the bed beside its master. Beckoning her over.

Alastor had only moved to duck into the blanket she'd given him, finally admitting a chill as he saturated that too and slept through the worst of the internal healing. His ears and eyes, bruised as they were, were all that was visible which was a small blessing from the blood slick under layers. The little shadow was worried when he didn't snap awake at an intruder, looking at her sharply and shaking a finger like she had better behave.

That was new. Aside from Shade she'd never seen any of those shadows individuate themselves before. But she followed it in, concerned a bit as it beckoned her over.

Sensing the worry the tiny shadow seemed to display, she nodded, marking a quiet 'x' over her heart before holding her hand up openly to promise it she'd behave. "I just want to check on him, I promise," she said softly, hoping to assuage the protective little creature.

Turning her attention to the burrowed form of the shadow's master, she sank gently onto the edge of the bed. She was intentionally keeping her movements slow, both for the comfort of his shadows but also so she didn't startle him. Leaning over slightly, she braced herself on one arm, still careful not to touch him just yet.

"Alastor?" she spoke softly, just loud enough to hopefully stir him. "Alastor, it's time to wake up. Husk is here. He was worried."

There was a moment that her voice was only a fever dream of noise, mixing in with the cacophony of sound in his head. Then meanings attached and he remembered May, his state, that she was there and his eyes shot open with a growl muffled under furs. Stricken rage over momentary panic to see her on his bed right there before he leaned back further into soggy sheets and threw his happy mask up. 

"May. Did you say Husk-?" Still hoarse but understandable, trying to sit up and only making a few inches of range before flopping back with a hiss. "Tell him no. Tell him I'm fine." Grumbling, freeing a hand from fur to wipe at his eyes which did nothing for the mess but helped them focus.

She was thankful she'd been wise enough not to be touching him as he woke with an immediate growl. Somehow she didn't immediately slip off the bed in fright. She must be getting used to him. Or maybe she knew he was just still recovering. 

That diagnosis was confirmed when he couldn't even sit up. The concern was back on her face as she heard that hiss. "He's already here, Alastor. He said he followed your trail all the way here. He even checked in on me." 

Climbing fully onto his bed and kneeling alongside him, she reached out and freed the last strands of hair from the mess to clear his vision. "He, um, stitched up my back, too," she filled him in gently, keeping up the conversation to coax him along. "He's in the kitchen though. I bought you a few minutes. He's not exactly leaving, I don't think. From the sounds of it you and Vox made it onto the news. By a lot. Alastor even your shadows are worried. What happened to you?"

Her voice was growing thick with worry, she realized, and she bit off the stream of talking before she went full-blown Niffty on him in his weakened state.

"I hope they at least got my good side." He hummed, voice warbling as he rather insistently worked on shimmying himself up the pillows to something like a seated position, disregarding the way it made him choke audibly. "Hell knows what they showed though."

Her ramblings had him watching her, tired eyes low and almost cool with his every dire wish to just dismiss her and sleep off his latest brush with semi-death. "It was only a scuffle dear! Poor Vox didn't like my explosive humor and we had to talk it out. Rather usual of us, actually. I assure you he is napping off his hangover as well." Waving it off without raising an arm, looking askance to the door as if he could erase it by sight alone. "You know how a night with the boys goes, just a bit of fun." 

The little shadow was bouncing in place, chattering a broken language that sounded unholy but chanting, gesturing like crazy until Alastor found a way to flip a pillow onto the thing.

"Alastor!" she chided gently, shooting him a look as she reached across his form to lift the pillow off the little shadow. "You should be nicer. He made me promise to behave before I could wake you up."

She was trying to believe that he was actually alright, but the way he was struggling to even maintain the facade had her worried. Hopefully Husk would show up soon and, as he put it, pull the Overlord's head out of his ass.

"My dear that is a construct. I don't have to be anything." He rolled his eyes, sitting back and giving the little gris a disapproving glare when it sidled over to May, holding onto her dress with it's own glare back at him. 

Speak of the devil and there was Husk's voice outside the door, ordering something to open the door for him before he slouched in with a pot of coffee, bottle of rum and mug balanced awkwardly between his claws. Not bothering to even pretend he wasn't scowling at the Overlord he crossed to the other side of the bed to hold out the pot. "Better buck up boyo, if you cant even hold this I will scald your dick." And Alastor was quick to grasp the pot, even if it burned his hands in a double grip because Husk was not joking. 

"Don't be rude, Husker, there's a lady-" He tried, sneering when the chimera interrupted. "This ain't rude to your chew toy, so be quiet and drink before I take it away." 

Sullenly glowering, promising so much revenge, Alastor gulped down the hot caffeine.

She couldn't help it, she just smiled as the little doll-like creature came and clung to her dress. Patting it gently on the head, she flicked her gaze to the door as Husk's voice groused outside to be let in.

And then Husk was bustling in, practically shouting orders and scowling at Alastor. A wince of sympathy crossed her face as Alastor took the pot of hot coffee right into his hands. She almost reached to relieve him of it when she heard that term spit with obvious venom from Husk's lips. ' _Chew toy? Is that all he really thinks of me?'_ She bristled at the idea, scooping the tiny gris up and tucking it into the pocket of her dress so it could ride with her if it desired as she slid off the bed. Construct or not she rather liked the little thing.

Coming to Husk's side of the bed she plucked the mug from his claws without a word, shooting the feline an obviously irritated glare as she returned to Alastor and took what remained of the pot, pouring some into the more manageable mug and handing it to Alastor.

"Chew toy indeed," she grumbled to herself, setting the remainder of the coffee pot on a nearby side table and leaning back against it with her arms crossed. _And after he'd been so nice earlier_ she thought to herself.

"That's what he did! Don't fuckin' deny it now, his stuck up - made up - manners don't change that." Husk barked, pointing a claw at the deer that just winced and leaned aside to sip at the mug with a mumbled 'Thank you' at May. 

When he didn't defend himself Husk bristled at his boss, tail raised and stalked off to his own bathroom to rummage for a much more complete medical kit than May's room sported. Dropping it on the bed without a word and just snatching Alastor's blanket with a look of disgust that intensified when he saw the oily slick, blood soaked clothes he was laying in. "What I tell ya about keeping that shit on." Narrowed eyed and grouchy. 

"Don't?" Was the sweet reply, batting his eyes and looking at May. "Do you see? He's an awful kitty. Grumpy old man~"

Her jaw twitched before she shot a glare back at Husk again. "You act like he was the only one involved in it!" she snapped at him, irritated that he'd conveniently omitted her admission to being well and fully involved. "And maybe I liked it!" She shot at him as he stalked off all abristle. She hoped at least a little of it was because of her additional jab. It was only after the small explosion out of her that she smiled gently and nodded at Alastor's soft thanks. 

But the wreck below the blanket made her pale and stand straight in surprise, shooting a concerned look at Alastor as he quipped back at Husker. Giving a soft sigh, she shook her head and looked across to Husk, suddenly feeling just a tiny bit bad for her earlier outburst. She may have been speaking to Alastor but the words were for Husk as well.

"No, he's not. Grumpy yes. But not awful. He's trying to help you Alastor. The least you can do is be polite," she stressed it to him, hoping that Husk caught the unspoken apology for her outburst.

"Dear, You say that like he's polite-"   
"Strip." Husk interrupted, uncaring when Alastor damn near snapped his neck to spin and glare at him. "No."  
"Yes, or I'll do it for you" Deadpan and unimpressed by the ensuing growl.

"May, wanna help me so I don't just shred his shit?" Husk showed her a paw again, stepping up onto the bed to curl his legs under him, putting the other paw smack over Alastor's mouth when he snarled a protest. Claws found his wrist, digging in to blood but Husk didn't bat an eye. "All his buttons n'bows get chewed up if I do it. As ya see, clothes ain't my strong suit no more."

She just about choked in surprise at the sudden command out of Husk. The grumpy creature just never ceased to amaze her. But it didn't seem like there was much option. It was either refuse and make Husk do it alone, or help and maybe it got done smoother. And with less potential damage to Husk.

With a sigh and an apologetic look to Alastor at having to break yet another unspoken boundary, she climbed back onto the bed. Pausing just long enough to pluck the little shadow from her pocket. She doubted it could get harmed since it was a shadow, but best to be safe.

"Alastor, please," she voiced quietly, before reaching out to undo his bowtie. Offering up a silent prayer to anyone who might possibly be listening that it didn't end up with her on his bad side. Her agile fingers soon were undoing the buttons on his shirt, shaking slightly as she uncovered the skin below. A sight he'd never let her see. It felt cruel, doing it this way, but she tried to remind herself that his health was more important right now. She only hoped he could see the apology writ in her face, the way she tried to keep from touching him even as she helped Husk undress the Overlord

Angry, dissonant static rose to a peak around them, his eyes flickering between states of rage and beast and static but Husk just helped peel his upper layers off. He scowled at the still bleeding rents underneath, some deep enough to expose shiny ribs and purple black viscera, all banded by the marks of seared bands of cooked flesh he expected. Vox really has some nasty gifts with those cables of his. Some strips were so cooked it had blackened and split, showing charred layers underneath. 

"Pigheaded brat." He grumbled, "better have broken that box for this. Damn disappointed in ya if he's walking before you." For his gruffness he was gentle with his claws, keeping a grip on the mortified Overlord and letting the girl work her dexterity without interruption. "Last time he got ripped open like this we spent hours cutting clothes outa him a week later." He explained, ignored the muffled denials under his paw.

Hearing the static rise in her ears she whimpered softly. The sight of the damage below, though, nearly made her burst into immediate tears. She'd had no idea it was this bad and guilt flooded her.

"If I'd have known it was this bad..." she started, glancing at Husk with eyes about to spill over already. But she swallowed it back, pulling Alastor's shirt free of his slacks.

"Alastor, I can't get your shirt off you like this. Lean forward," she said gently, even undoing the deer's sleeves to prevent him getting hung up. "Please. Husk, help him. He barely sat up on his own earlier."

Husk willingly manhandled him, finding an area of shoulder he could grip to pull Alastor forward and doing what he could to muffle the pained shriek that caused, compressing what had to be sore innards. It wasn't enjoyable for him to abuse his friend like this but sometimes he just had to. Not their first dance around that insufferable streak of independence Alastor had.

Hearing that muffled shriek, she cringed in sympathy, offering him a softly-spoken apology. She leaned close, stripping Alastor's shirt free as quickly as she could to allow him to settle back into a semblance of comfort again.

"He'll be fine, girlie. Just better he's back to being a right bastard before Vox does. Dont need him gettin' healed and coming to pay respects with boyo in a coma." He muttered, leaning to glance down his back when she got it off of the man who was going abnormally compliant as breathing became priority over dignity. Letting him sit back as soon as he could. 

"You gonna behave if I use my hands, Al?" He raised a brow, waiting for the brief nod before doing just that to pick up his cleaning supplies. Not to actually get Alastor clean but just to see the edges he was going to work with.

"I hate you." Totally expected and Husk just shrugged, tending his tools.

With the shirt off, she sat back, kneeling at Alastor's side with it clutched against her chest for a moment. She was thankful, at least, he'd stopped fighting Husk. Maybe there wouldn't be backlash after all.

Feeling useless now as Husk started his familiar work, she retreated out of the way. Those claws worked ceaselessly, fidgeting with the blood-soaked shirt as she looked on.

Yet again she felt so torn, wanting to retreat and give Alastor the privacy he probably wanted but also wanting to stay in case either of them needed her. Or wanted her, in one case. So instead she simply voiced it. "S-should I go? Or do you want me to stay?"

There was no reference to whom she was addressing the question, simply letting it hang in the air as she looked on, trying to keep from staring at Alastor's half-dressed state. It just felt like an invasion somehow.

They both answered at once, giving opposite commands and staring at one another, then reversed them and sighed. Husk obediently shut his mouth, ducking to gingerly get back to sewing his boss together where he could, trying to cover his insides with what outsides remained. Nothing to do about those burns but apply one of the man's nasty tonics and hope they healed quickly. 

"You can stay, Miss May. No sense just fretting down the hall." Alastor eventually sighed out, twitching and gritting his teeth now and then but putting on his best indifference. No point making her cry.

"Could get his shoes off, help me clean up a bit." Husk offered, knowing idle hands felt like hell in this kind of space.

The relief was obvious on her face as they both gave her permission, and a reason to stay. Folding the shirt over on itself, she laid it aside at the foot of the bed before she knelt next to Alastor's legs. 

She intentionally turned away, letting Alastor express himself as needed for the moment as she slid his shoes free of his feet. Leaning over the edge of the bed, she dropped them to the floor with a soft thump.

Reaching across Alastor's prone form again, she fetched up the cleaning supplies as Husk worked. "Thank you," she offered to both of them.

Her gentle hands were soon at work cleaning the many and varied wounds as Husk stitched, the pile of bloodied supplies stacking up next to her knees. Her eyes may have been taking in his bare, scarred skin as her fingers touched, but it was anything but intimate, just trying to ensure his health in tandem with that gruff feline.

Alastor was quiet as they worked, a slow burn of guilt lighting in him as Husk bent to his task with gradually shaking hands, eyes dead and locked on thread. Turning to look between them he couldn't understand why she cared so - but he couldn't deny she did.

Husk however, he knew. And he had been cruel. To them both.

The next time Husk had to pause, taking too much care to rethread a needle the Overlord caught May's arm, pulling her in against his side under one arm. Tuning to a warbling soft tune that displayed his pain in a way his voice did not, turning his attentions to her that Husk would just rebuff. 

"No time for rest  
No pillow for my head  
Nowhere to run from this  
No way to forget

Around the shadows creep  
Like friends, they cover me  
Just wanna lay me down and finally  
Try to get some sleep..."

Husk had stopped, shaking with his head low and ears pinned. Staring at his paws with glassy eyes as the Overlord pet May's hair around her horns.

"We carry on through the storm  
Tired soldiers in this war  
Remember what we're fighting for

Meet me on the battlefield  
Even on the darkest night  
I will be your sword, your shield, your camouflage  
And you will be mine

Echos and the shots ring out  
We may be the first to fall  
Everything can stay the same or we could change it all.  
Meet me on the battle field..."

His voice was raw, eyes sad and low on the kind people trying to undo his mistake. So he sang them an apology, and a thank you.

Her breathing stopped for a moment as Alastor caught her arm, certain she'd caused him some unholy jolt of pain until he pulled her in against his side. She could hardly believe it, this sudden desire for her to touch him. Shooting a confused look at Husk as if to ask if this sort of reaction were normal even as she let Alastor hold her. She certainly wasn't going to remove whatever form of comfort he desired.

But the combination of that song and the unexpected gentle touch undid her, all the worry and strain since she'd seen his condition that morning finally unable to be kept back as he poured out that musical apology. As Alastor's fingers stroked and petted around her horns she lowered her head, resting her forehead on one of the rare uninjured spots left to him for a moment.

Reaching across his form, she took Husk's wrist in a gentle grip to catch his attention for a moment from his work. "Thank you, Husker. For everything," she voiced in a thick tone before she let him resume his work. She'd cleaned all the wounds she could see, anyway.

She rested back against Alastor's side, wiping a threatening tear away as he offered up that beauty in the midst of it all. One hand reached up, gently resting her fingers on his wrist as his fingers toyed within her hair.

It took the old cat a moment to start working again, glancing at her with an almost angry scowl behind red eyes. The fur around them was damp but that sung apology shared things unsaid and he was able to get back to fixing up Alastor with a steady hand as the demon finished the verses, squeezing May when he needed and stroking her when he could bear it. She finally found the comfort to lower her hand to Alastor's chest as he used her to get through the rest of the patchwork Husk did on his wounds, caressing gently to soothe him at the more painful points. Her chin rested gently against his shoulder, leaving him able to toy with her hair as he desired.

All Husk could do was nod at May, choked and quiet.

By time he was done the deer was wilting, shaking again from adrenaline pain and fatigue. Husk rose, taking the scraps of evidence away, coming back with a fresh blanket and shirt for Alastor but the Overlord made no move to dislodge May or dress. In fact he made Husk spread the blanket, only calling his name quietly when the cat turned to leave. Job done.

"Come here." The other hand raised and after a hesitation that looked painful Husk climbed on the bed too. Flopping down to take Alastor's other side in a curled ball of fur with his head in his lap, face hidden. "Too old for this shit." A grumble.

"Yeah...you are." Alastor leaned back, closing his own eyes.

Seeing as he wasn't exactly releasing her to get dressed once Husker finished and brought the other man a fresh shirt, or to shoo her away, she simply remained pressed against the wounded Demon. She helped pull the blanket up over his form, wincing as the stretch pulled at her own fresh stitches before her fingers hooked it.

She did have to smile though as Husk finally gave in, feeling the bed shift as the winged feline curled up--grumpy even now. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep against the heat of him, the duet of the breathing from the other two and the ambient radio noise always surrounding Alastor lulling her off even faster now that the immediate stress had passed

And he did not smell like death, she decided, a thought that made her smile a bit after Husker's earlier voiced opinions.

Alastor was surprised she fell asleep so easily but if he was honest he was fighting it tooth and nail himself. A bit of gentle and at least somewhat respectful petting had Husk purring as the old cat gave in to his own fearful stress and crashed into a purring sleep and that spelled his doom. Not as though May could really do him harm anyway.

The trio fell into a solid rest, warm and at ease despite varying pains, only a determined thought tuning the radio to soft jazz just to be damn sure the city didn't get it in their heads he was dead. The little shadow even crept up, warily guarding them to curl into May's lap and keep a dozing eye on the napping sinners. 

They needed it, all of them. So much so nothing would easily disturb the men from the secretive and unlikely cuddling even if the house were to come down around them. Too damn exhausted to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After as busy as I've been im startled I got back here in good time. Likely update again tomorrow or the like. 
> 
> Don't fall off the trolly yet, kiddos, there is some very entertaining bits to come!


	6. On With the Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Several fun revelations and a chance to get out on the town.
> 
> Also, never trust the Goetia.

May was the first to stir from the clutches of that deep sleep only afforded from sheer exhaustion. Why was it so warm? Pawing at the blanket, she was blearily confused when she didn't find one covering her. With a sleep-confused mumble she sat up, yawning widely as she rubbed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Or at least, she tried to sit up. An unexpected weight on her midsection had her half-pinned to the bed as soft jazz played.

Finally her brain got those higher functions running, and the memories clicked back. Ah. Of course. Glancing down at the item pinning her she saw the bare arm of Alastor. That explained the heat she was resting next to, at least.

Despite the reasons she'd ended up here she still enjoyed it for a moment, that oddly normal touch. She knew it was such a deep moment of trust for him to be asleep around anyone at all. Not wanting to disturb the sleep he so desperately had needed, she gently took hold of his wrist, trying to gently untangle herself. Maybe she could start some food before anyone noticed she'd slipped out. That would certainly be a welcome boost, a good meal.

The demon shuffled a bit, raising his arm to let her go with a dozedly muttered 'couillon minou' under his breath, only instinctually aware of things and turning to curl loosely against Husk. Seeking fur single mindedly. The old man was dead to rights, still purring and raising to a bone vibrating rumble when Alastor's newly free hand sunk into fur as well. The kind of attention both men would kill a witness to keep under wraps.

She had no idea what the demon murmured but she couldn't resist the smile at the uncharacteristic way the two men, so often seen sniping at and antagonizing each other, seemed perfectly comfortable and content. She knew both of them would deny it, violently, to anyone else.

Freed of the weight of Alastor's arm, she slid carefully from the bed, giving the little gris that had been resting on her a little pat to the head. Her bare feet made hardly a sound on the floor as she slipped out, closing the doors behind her.

Her first stop was that cold storage room. Passing over the more _exotic_ meat selections, she picked out a good sized roast. She had no doubts everyone would be ravenous.

By the time the other two stirred from their dead sleep, she had taken over that kitchen, humming along to the radio as she worked. The roast, with its root vegetables she'd chopped up, was nearly done, filling the house with the smells of comfort. No exotic bayou flavors but a rich hearty meal all the same, the roast promising a decent gravy she could use the rolls for. Bless Niffty for all that food prep. Now she could bake them to a perfect crust.

Even with both of them awake, Husk was the one out prowling. After helping Alastor to his ensuite and being cheerfully, acerbically, told to get lost, he'd tried to look around for May. His quiet feline grace failed him when he stumbled and fell head over feet down the stairs with muffled thumps and swears, landing on all fours with a new heart attack in his wide eyes. Fully awake now!

Only straightening to a cave man's slouch he wandered in, making a straight line to the booze cabinet before his mind even caught up to May in the kitchen. "Oh, hey kiddo." Grunting, digging past Alastor's top shelf shit for an easy bottle of something cheap and nasty. Tequila always hit the spot.

Her gaze caught sight of Husk over her shoulder, noticing the feline looking a bit ruffled, and she smiled to herself. As he dug the tequila bottle out of the cabinet, she waved one soap-sud-speckled hand, having moved to the sink to wash up what she could.

"Sleep well?" She asked gently, falling back into the steady rhythm of scrubbing and rinsing. A damp towel had been flung over her shoulder, ready to dry the items as they were rinsed to prevent spots.

Climbing on a stool Husk dropped on the island, head sideways as he focused more on opening the bottle and tipping it expertly to his muzzle without spilling. "Eh. Guess so. Got hot." He grunted, looking her over disinterested. Eyeing her back and her renewed peppyness. "Red is washin' the black off, acting like a damn Donna. Stubborn brat." His grumpy update, not raising his head until he had inches of that bottle consumed, which really didn't take long. 

"You down here playing home maker?" Squinting around his brows were raised with more an impressed look than his tone. Swiping a paw over his face to wake up a bit more and settle his fur.

She nodded with the update, the only interruption to his words the soft clatter of dishes. "Me too. Such a furnace. I'm glad he's up though. He had me worried." She chuckled at Husk's description of Alastor though, shrugging a bit as she popped the drain out of the sink to let the suds drain. 

"Just figured everyone might be hungry after all the excitement. You staying to join us? I made plenty. Don't worry, it's kosher." She pointed over her shoulder at the oven, chuckling a bit.

Once the last item was replaced, she dried the water off her own hands, plucking up the rolls and a pair of oven mitts. In one smooth motion, she slid the rolls into the oven to warm up as she pulled the roast out to rest atop the stove with a subtle grimace at the weight pulling ever so slightly on her sore muscles.

"He's only up because he's fucked in the head." Automatic grouch. The offer stunned him quiet, swirling his bottle a moment to watch her before nodding. "Yeah, I'll stay," chuckling at the joke, "stick 'round long enough that won't matter long as it ain't raw." Watching her work was bittersweet, too domestic and at ease for what he had started to associate as the norms of hell. It tickled at memories behind some pretty tight doors, making him feel useless sitting there but what was he supposed to do? He was fuck all for manners anymore.

"Well I won't argue with you there, but I'm still glad he's up," she chuckled, unaware of Husk's awkward discomfort as she bustled about the kitchen.

Thankfully he was distracted by footfalls above, Alastor quite stubbornly making his way around. Dressed in his minimum of slacks, shoes and a soft pullover that hid him from throat to fingertips, he rested on the library loft railing, still wet from his painfully awkward shower and pretending not to be gaunt and panting. "MorninEvening folks! Playdate in the kitchen, I see?"

Hearing those footfalls above, she brushed her hands on that towel before hanging it up, even as she smiled at the familiar voice calling over the railing. Stepping into view of the freshly showered and dressed demon, she smiled up at him. "You coming down or are you going to make Husk and I drag this roast up there like a pair of heathens?"

Her mood was light, playfully crossing her arms as she gave Alastor a mock-stern expression. But she couldn't hold back the smile that spread across her face--just seeing him mobile was help enough for her mood.

"Either way you better hurry up. Husker is already downing your tequila and I think I saw him eyeing your rum," she called up, before turning to give Husk a smirk.

Alastor hummed at her, giving the staircase his own playful look before he snapped back with a short record skid of indignation. Joke or not he looked appalled. "He wouldn't dare. My rum is not for the uncaring palette of an old blotto!"

"Don't tempt me, squeaker." Husk couldn't hide a grin, toasting Alastor with what looked suspiciously like a half bottle of booze. Watching the distinct urge to flip him off cross the Overlord's face, but as usual - no delivery. 

Making his way down was slow and methodical and by hell he was glad for his pallor because he couldn't pale much further by the time he was gritting his grin and walking over to clap his hands on Husk's shoulders. Holding himself up on him. "Give me a drink~"

"Ew, no." Arm outstretched, holding the bottle from the injured man who pouted sweetly. "May... let's feed this kid before he eats me."

In this, at least, she was in her element, quickly stepping into command as she spoke, her tiny frame drawing up straight as she gestured to the men in turn. "Alastor, you go sit down at the table. I will bring you some water in a moment. Husk, be a dear and set the table will you?"

She issued the commands even as she turned to pull the browned rolls from the oven, flicking the top of one and smiling at the crack that appeared. Perfectly crusty. She didn't even look to see if the two men followed her words, distracted by her work carving the roast into more manageable pieces.

They both blinked owlishly at her, startled, and then old habits of obedience took over. Husk huffed, not in the least sure how to set a table to either of their expectations but doing his best with small guidance from Alastor about where things were kept as the deer sat himself down with a wince and folded his hands.

As she worked she separated each segment of food and slid it onto the island so Husk could place it on the table. After a bit of digging she'd even found a small dish for the gravy that had formed from the drippings that leached the starches from the lowest vegetables.

Filling a glass with some water for Alastor, she brought the last items to the table, pointing at the glass with a pointed stare at the patched-up Overlord.

"That first, understood? Then we'll talk about your rum."

The look he gave the water was pure novelty. Under her direct eye he poked it, giving her the most disappointed pout, and then drained the glass in a single go and set it down like a victory. "Rum please." 

Still bringing things over Husk grunted a laugh, throwing in his two cents. "One glass dont warm shit, kid."

"Better some water than none," she smiled at Husk, before fetching the bottle of rum. A deal was a deal, and she could probably convince him of some more water later somehow.

Setting the bottle at Alastor's place she plated up a generous serving of the hearty meal, motioning him to go ahead and eat before reaching out for Husk's plate with a crook of her fingers to wordlessly indicate to hand it to her so she could fill it.

Once the two men were supplied with food, she fetched a glass of water for herself as well before joining them at the table for her own share of the food.

Alastor absolutely did not stick his tongue out at Husk when her back was turned. Being sent a rude gesture was simply unwarranted grouching. 

"Hope you don't mind a spot of the dreaded Yankee cooking, Alastor," she chuckled, pleased to see the roast had come out perfect, hardly even needing a knife to break the pieces down. "We may not be as fun as the Bayou but we can certainly fill a belly when it's needed."

While Husk dissolved into a flustered silence at the congenial treatment from May, head ducking to pick at his frankly amazing dinner and mumble a thank you to the girl, Alastor had no such qualms. Pouring himself a drink and sighing with no reserved delight at both beverage and the hearty scent in the air. 

"Not the slightest, dear. So long as you keep convenience foods out of my menu I am just delighted to see the skills you have." And taste, because he wasn't reserved in tucking in with an unrepressable rumble in his chest. Hunger didn't define what he felt since waking, more of an unholy fixation that tried his every manner. "How is it I don't have some thwarted spouse of yours to fight for your keeping? You really are a delight."

Arching a brow a bit at Husk's sudden reticence, she hoped to herself it was just him being Husk somehow. Maybe he just wasn't a fan of vegetables. There was a good assortment after all.

Her attention was soon pulled back to the other man, his praise making her blush softly. She went after her food for a bit, honestly hungry with the unintentional near-fast she'd had, and her meal began vanishing quickly as she took the edge off that hunger before answering.

"Never did find anyone who suited my fancy out there. One or two tried to get my attention but, not my types. Turns out folks don't enjoy arguing with a woman who can literally shock them" she shrugged, taking a sip of water. Let them make of that answer what they would as she rubbed gently at her shoulder. 

"By the way, Husk, you weren't kidding. You are good with stitches. They barely even pull." Trying to coax the awkwardly quiet old grump into a bit of conversation as he picked at his meal.

Alastor really wasn't sure what to make of that, but he could cede a spitfire of a woman often drove suitors off. Only problem was he had only seen her be perfectly pleasant, if a bit joking. Which was fine by him! Having a sense of humor meant you still had a soul.

Speaking of which, he glanced at Husk and saw the old guy struggling with such a warm acceptance. Posilutely endearing. Keeping his own mouth shut to enjoy the meal, humming as if to prod the old cat.

"Uh...yeah. No problem, glad they're working good. Just some shit I picked up-" Backpedaling was interrupted. "Husker has many skills. A very worldly man." Alastor was having none of that humble self doubt, and the feline flushed near through his fur. 

"Yeah, yeah so...learned some tricks. And after dealing with kids getting hurt and Al here I might as well be a medic. Don't mean shit in Hell." He stuffed, digging into his roast with more pluck just to fill his mouth and gestured with his utensil. "Can't do this, for say. S'fuckin' good."

"You two are going to ruin my ego with all this stroking if you keep up like this," she chuckled, but she was glad to see them enjoying it. "It's hard cooking for just one sometimes so this is a nice change."

She leaned over, bracing one arm on the table to pat Husker's arm gently as she doubled down on Alastor's praise. "But I think it means something. I wouldn't have been able to do what you did."

And then the hand was gone, plucking her glass from the table to take another drink. She really needed to stop ending up practically starving herself, she thought, or she'd end up skinny as Alastor.

Leaning her head on her hand now, still not resting back in her seat to keep from angering those stitches, she traced the side of her glass idly with her other hand.

"Speaking of which, Husk, when do those need to come out?"

"You have an ego?" Was Alastor's only defense, looking plum puzzled around a sly grin and just enjoying the banter as he ate. Even he had to eat slower though, anatomy just getting in the way of his usual habits so he savored what he had, sneaking more meat onto his plate during their chat. 

"Ya woulda if you had to. I did plenty of shit work at first. It ain't hard." Husk tried to diminish how much he enjoyed the praise for something other than his underhanded skills. "Just keep em until you're healed. We all work differently down here now else Red wouldn't be eatin' yet." Shoulders hunched he was definitely suffering the blows of so much flattery, scoffing as he took another drink. 

"Only took her a week to shake off introductions." Alastor commented off hand, looking up to May to ignore the scathing look Husk shot him. Already so protective of the lass. "I'd give you a few days at most."

She gave Alastor an amused look at his quip over her apparent lack of ego, but didn't respond. "Please help yourselves. I made it to be eaten, after all" she said after seeing Alastor sneaking more of the meat onto his plate.

But Alastor's mention of introductions. Her brows lifted in surprise. She'd been out for a week? No wonder she'd been so hungry that first day. It had been days of not eating as she regenerated. Her distraction as she caught up with her own altered timeline made her miss Husk's glare at Alastor.

"Well then! That explains a lot. I didn't realize it'd been a solid week," she answered as if it were the most normal thing for someone to spend a week regenerating from the effects of a cannibal having devoured the majority of their body.

"You had some significant memory lapses, I hadn't wanted to startle you." Or cause a melt down as she had still had, but that seemed quite resolved. Letting Husk serve himself again Alastor wasn't shy about taking more once the feline had filled his plate again. The poor guy looked too happy with the spread to withhold from him.

"Honestly you'll probably be quicker in the future. Hell tends to compensate well for trauma." It was a normal conversation to him but he dropped it after seeing Husk eyeing his fork as if to decide if it was a suitable shiv to stab him with.

"Anyway! I do hope you have a few hobbies to entertain yourself with. I could call someone to take you out and about if you're bored however with most of my projects on...hold...as it were. It probably wouldn't be best for you to go alone."

Seeing them tuck into seconds, and thirds in Alastor's case, she smiled. But she waved off his concern about her own entertainment. "I don't require much. A good book and some music is enough for me most nights. If I really need I can just head into your woods,"

She chuckled, remembering how they'd just looped her right back to him. No reason to think they wouldn't do the same now.

"But I'll let you know. Maybe I'll just go out and get Niffty and myself some tea. Since _someone_ forgot it with his boy's night," she quipped. "Probably didn't get anything else on the list either" she snickered.

The Overlord choked, covering his mouth with a hot look at her at the reference. Clearing his throat before resuming his meal. "I did not forget, I just misplaced them for now. All of them." Sniffing haughtily. "Although I managed the mayhem and public terror just fine."

"You misplace your wits too?" Husk bit out, a bit lost but not dropping to opportunity to send a habitual jab, still a bit sore about the fright Alastor gave him.

"Mayhaps I did...a bit." Good enough for Husk.

Her smile had curled into a deeply amused one as she caught Alastor so perfectly off-guard for a second. Not filling in Husk at all, of course, that Cheshire grin. She just chuckled at Alastor's haughty sniff, rather pleased with herself.

"Hell, I bet you could get Husk here to babysit me in exchange for another dinner" she shot Husk a playful smirk. Her jibes to him were much gentler than his boss'.

"Ain't ya damn babysitter. I got businesses to run." Was the quick answer, willing to cheat himself of a meal if it meant not admitting he was tempted. But then it'd just be him awkwardly drinking someone else's booze and sitting around and that was...weird. Company was weird.

"A shame, Husk. Maybe I'd even make dessert. I make a fair apple pie, I've heard," she couldn't help but needle them both. That mischievous side quite enjoying itself now that wounds were healing and bellies were filled.

"But I understand the concern, Alastor, I do. I'm sure it's getting around you have a new... Guest" she slid a gaze to Husk to gauge his reaction out of the side of her eyes. "Possibly one that's now in danger of being caught in revenge cross-fire, yes?"

"Hnn..." Husk couldn't hide a small perk up, the debate heavier now with her tease and only worse when she reminded him that his firepower could be put to better use than running a casino. Without telegraphing he reached over to punch Alastor in the shoulder, dead on one of burnt welts, not looking at him or wincing at the expected radio shriek and cough of pain. "Bastard."

Leaning away Alastor bared a hostile grin, pain in the lines of his face but no retaliation. "You worry too much~ no one has come here without invite in over 50 years. I keep telling you that! I tire of repeating myself, Lucifer himself couldn't sneak in so quit worrying about one show-all, tell-all sleazelord." Standing more to put space between them he carried his dishes to the kitchen, static skipping around him, before coming back to take his bottle and serve a second drink. "The worst that will happen is yours truly and she doesn't seem to mind," he looked to her, "Do you, Miss May."

Her grin was turned into a flinch as that punch sent a shriek of static through her ears. "Shit!" was dropped before she could stop it, the sudden burst of noise leaving a momentary ringing in her ears. 

"Dammit, Husk, warn me next time!" she grumbled under Alastor's words. She wasn't sure what that had been all about but shrugged it off as the usual business between the two men.

Her attention (and hearing) returned as Alastor settled again to pour himself another drink, smiling at him gently. "Not at all. I think we have an understanding that works quite delightfully."

While Alastor beamed, feeling vindicated by that sweet response, Husk just slouched back with a dark huff and killed the rest of his bottle. "Crazy is contagious." 

"You're just jealous that you don't understand." Waved off with a teasing look, knowing full well it would rile Husk.

"No! I dont, and I'm not!- and...fuck." He had leaned forward, spitting his denials before wavering slightly and leaning back again. "Too tired for your shit, Al." A blink, and he stood to pat May on the head in a tentative gesture. "Thank for dinner, girlie. Best I've had in...while. Imma go...or lie down and then go. Fuck." Slouching off towards one of the sitting rooms with a couch.

She giggled softly at the head pat. Gruff as he was the grumpy feline was sweet in his way. "Glad for it. Enjoy the food coma," she chuckled as the feline wandered off to find a place to crash.

Rising from her own seat now, she gathered the remaining dishes to transport them to the kitchen. The two men had devoured most of the meal, leaving hardly any scraps behind. "Glad I picked the big one, I guess", she chuckled as she hefted the pan she'd placed the remaining dishes in.

Not wanting him to waste energy he needed to be using in healing, she quickly got the water to running again to wash up. Her attention was soon focused on the task, humming or singing to snatches of songs that came to her mind as she worked. Alastor probably caught familiar strains at times amid the overlaying sounds of that domestic work.

"I'm never one to let food waste." He hummed back, content to stay where he was and watch her work through heavy eyes. Propped up on one fist and trying with little success to defuse some of the static in his head. The best he was able to distract himself with was a bit of espionage that he wasn't the only one hurting and that brightened his smile just a bit. 

It became a game to him to internally name her tunes, occasionally lost or unsure as she picked common chords. Sitting there was comfortable though, and he was reluctant to disrupt himself even if impulses to do so rose in mind.

Her tunes finally petered out as she finished up and made sure the counter was clean, having been humming the opening portions of the "St. James Infirmary Blues". Glancing over at the table she noticed Alastor's heavy-eyed expression and smiled gently. He looked so tired.

"Alastor, dear, why don't you go sleep the rest of this off a bit more," the words tumbled free without even a pause. She hadn't even noticed the phrasing that had dropped in. "You can use my bed since yours is still a mess. I'll be alright without it for one night. The armchair in your study is surprisingly comfortable, you know." 

She came to him as she spoke, sliding into her seat at the table with a soft sigh. Washing two rounds of dishes had rubbed at the stitches on her shoulder despite the protective tape and aggravated the already-sore flesh of her back.

It pulled a sweet smile to his face, shaking his head without lifting it just to blow his not quite dried right hair from his face. "No need, Mayflower, but thank you. I have a second bed I can use...just had to be in one piece to enjoy it." Seeing her sigh he raised a brow, tapping his claws on the table. "You look just as worn, although a spry bit better than I. Just a lazy day in the kingdom. Hm." 

Perhaps for the sake of honesty he added, voice low as his eyes slipped to look at the damned things. "Besides! I'd rather listen to you sing than tackle those cruel stairs. You're a much kinder mistress."

"Just sore. Nothing compared to what you're dealing with I'm sure," she waved off the concern. "Husk did a fine job but they do love to complain despite it. Especially when I try to move. Or breathe too deeply." she chuckled, even as she felt that little thrill at that private name for her.

And then her cheeks colored softly. She hadn't even realized she was singing while she worked. "Stairs can be evil indeed. Would you climb them for another song?" she smiled, pulling out all the stops to coax him to go rest and heal himself.

His eyes narrowed at the comparison, a rather dark thought crossing his mind then of just what he might do if she did feel like he did. Suspecting neither of them would take it in such good humor. Banishing the thought, if trying to, he nodded lightly and tapped again. 

"Sounds like a fair deal to me~" Winking at her shrewd attempts to mother him.

"Mmm. A deal then. But you have to make it up the stairs first. Come on," she smiled, rising and pushing her seat in smoothly. She made no move to touch him, respecting the idea that now that he was on the mend he may just want that physical space back again.

"I don't know if you'll know it. But it's one I love," coaxing him on with a bit of drawn out mystery. She was certain he was fully aware of her tactics but did that matter if it worked?

Rising with a dry look, he gave the stairs a glance that could burn. "I'll hold you to that." Even baited his curiosity helped straighten his spine and at least start with little difficulty. It was mostly fatigue that made him slow until the lance of white cold pain struck his guts, making him grip the railing until it whined and bite his tongue on a hysterical chuckle. Oh hell, he was a mess. 

Still laughing though he trudged on, just overriding pain with force until he was at the top railing. Knowing she was watching him pant and struggle was a blow but honestly, he soothed himself knowing she lived by his will and so really? He was choosing this. Entirely his choice.

She followed him, close behind in case he needed a hand. And she was convinced he might when he stopped partway up, obviously dealing with a fresh wave of pain. Her fingers traced over the spot he'd gripped as he struggled on as if half-expecting it would have formed to his grip.

The laughter was unsettling, she admitted to herself, but he made it. She only hoped he could make it down the hall now. Perhaps a bit of music would coax him on.

A soft hum started up behind him, the notes haunting and cast in that minor key so common to the music of the eastern world. Yet it was soothing in it's patterns, rising and falling like a slow-flowing river as she slipped her way in front of him, guiding him on with that melody toward his door.

At the door frame he stopped to lean, closing his eyes and just listening as he felt a tremor hit him. Just a moment, and he'd be fine. Less than a day ago he had walked much further in much worse. This was practically a stroll. 

That was the best motivation he had. Always remember worse. There always was worse. And if he could handle worse he could certainly do this with a smile on his face. 

Dimly his eyes glowed, locking on her and listening as he moved mechanically to his room behind her, shadows opening doors at unspoken commands in an effort to make him comfortable. Still laughing brokenly, the sound forcing him to breathe at regular intervals.

She turned partway down the hall, catching sight of those glowing eyes and trying not to shiver. It would probably always make her do that, no matter how used to him she grew. 

But the tune kept going, looping it for him to give him something to focus on between his mad-sounding laughter. It made her voice hitch for a moment as she proceeded him into the shadow-populated rooms.

"Almost there, Alastor. I can sing it to you once you're settled," she smiled gently, holding out her hand in a gesture of encouragement. She expected no grasp upon it, merely to have him climb into his bed and finish sleeping this off in exchange for a song.

Pausing inside, beside her with a strained but humored grin at her coaxing he considered his bed. The way she lured him like a wild animal had merit, making his eyes flash in decision. Closing his bedroom door he looked at her pointedly and showed her a trick. Just grabbed the doorknob and slid it to the other side of the door from right to left, and clicked it open to a very different bedroom.

One entirely made of stone, like a manufactured cave with cool air and pine scents over a lingering haze of blood. No furnishings, no technical bed, but a carved bowl some twenty feet across piled high in fur blankets and hides - some of which were not entirely cleaned to public standard. 

Stepping in stiffly, hurting and so tired, he tried to smile soothingly. "If you don't mind, I'd ask you face the wall. It's up to you if you look back once I'm comfortable." A gentle order and not one he was sure she understood. But easily enough to obey.

Even though she should have honestly expected him to eventually pull another trick from out of his sleeve, she was still surprised by the change as he opened the door not into the bedroom she'd expected but into a den. One that smelled both of the deep forest, but also death. It made her shiver as she followed behind him, partially from the size of that bed. It reminded her too much of those huge clawed tracks in his sitting room.

Her gaze lifted as he spoke, head tilting a bit at the odd command as she gave him a momentary confused look. But she nodded and turned to face the wall as he'd requested, starting to hum that soft melody again. Whatever it took to get him to rest, and if that meant following a few strange requests then that was fine with her.

He gave her a second of staring at her back to confirm she was obeying before he shucked his clothes entirely, not able to deal the added magick to handle them, and then shucked his skin with a pleased growl.

It was a twisting, snapping sound as he let go of his containment, sounding far more unpleasant than it was even if it did sting a bit when things moved and shifted. His pain transferred with him, wounds transcribed across him as a whole, but that was why Husk used his own supplies on him. Stitches held. A horrifically stretched and emaciated beast of half bone and too much claws, even his hooves were clawed with shaggy fur and spines off his joints, like a bladed elk had torn on a lycanthropic skin that was two sizes too small and settled over the necessities like a coat, a bare, fanged face and muzzle gorey under dial eyes.

Laying on his bed he rooted around, too hot with adrenaline and ails to to nest in, and propped himself into comfort. ~~"Choice is yours, but a deal is a deal my May."~~

She wanted to know what was making that sound behind her in that space. That unnatural snapping reminded her too much of when she'd heard the shattering of bones over the last few days. The instinctual temptation to look for safety was yelling inside her mind, pounding it into her conscious mind to the point that she squeezed her eyes closed against it. 

Her voice grew weak for a moment in nervousness as she heard the great beast moving, the tune wavering a moment as he settled himself into that bowl of bedding.

And then that voice. The sound died in her throat at the voice from that first night, taunting and joyful over her suffering. The one that told her to break their victim's heart. She had to brace herself against the wall for a moment to calm herself, pressing her forehead against the cool wall for a moment before she turned.

She saw. Saw the true form of him resting in that nest, terrifying and feral and yet somehow still proud and regal. It felt like her heart somersaulted in her chest at the sight of him. But he was right. A deal was a deal. 

A moment of silence to calm herself before that haunting tune filled the space, quavering at first but growing louder as she calmed.

"Hush now, my darling  
Be still love, don't cry.  
Sleep like you're rocked by the stream.  
Sleep and remember  
my lullaby.  
And I'll be with you when you dream.

Drift on a river  
that flows through my arms.  
Drift as I'm singing to you.  
I see you smiling  
so peaceful and calm.  
And holding you, I'm smiling too.  
Here in my arms  
safe from all harm.  
Holding you, I'm smiling too.

Hush now, my darling  
Be still love, don't cry.  
Sleep like you're rocked by the stream.  
Sleep and remember this lullaby.  
And I'll be with you when you dream.  
I'll be with you when you dream."

Alastor watched as she gave a fright, his tail lurching up as the only sign he had to restrain himself from lunging at that sweet sign. He could taste it and it was a bare thread that kept him still until she calmed. 

The song was...beautiful. Somehow he hadn't expected one he'd not heard, sung so sweetly and it lowered his head to his arms with a dozing emotion he couldn't name as he listened. Feeling it do its duty and put him to a restful mind. 

Watching her. Feeling his terrifying doe eyes heavy and content as she braved looking at him and sang him a real lullaby. ~~"Beautiful"~~ Rumbling lowly as the air picked up small hints of sound that chimed almost like the melody as it sunk into his mind. 

Deal paid, he turned his muzzle just slightly to the door, careful not to scrape his antlers on the wall to see it unlatch for her. Allowing the girl escape. ~~"Thank you, Mayflower"~~

He was terrifying and yet that song did it's job, her eyes wide and watching as his head sank onto his arms as he approached something that seemed to resemble relaxation.

The feral voice coming from that twisted muzzle still terrified a deep, instinctual part of her. Even knowing it was Alastor, it screamed at her to flee in the face of this indescribable predator. But she stayed still, watching and listening in awe as he seemed to absorb the melody into himself.

It was a strange sensation, hearing that beloved pet name come out of that horror of a muzzle as the door unlatched for her. To feel that thrill of happiness while still hearing her subconscious mind scream at her to run RUN!

Taking one more steadying breath, she worked a smile onto her face. For him. Not to preserve herself but to assure him that she was there, would be there when he had recovered.

"You're welcome, Alastor. Sleep well," she answered him gently before she slipped from the room. Somehow she made it to her own room without panicking, though not by much. Only when her door closed behind her did she release a shuddering breath and fully relax.

The smile he returned wasnt comforting, twisted on his features but he managed to let her leave without further incident. Truly he was exhausted and shadows closed doors behind her to let him rest in absolute solitude. Not a demon or an Overlord at the moment, but a beast that wanted to hibernate until it didn't hurt to be alive anymore. 

Sleep found him quickly, radios running distorted music and old shows in his lack of attention, and idly before he fell into the abyss he wondered if all this would change her view of him. She had said at the first, it was the man who scared her.

She shivered against her door as she heard the radio flip to distorted music, but it reassured her that he was hopefully finally sleeping off his injuries. Not wanting to sever the connection even as she found the distorted sound completely unnerving, she crossed the room and simply turned the volume down until it was barely audible.

As she sank onto the edge of her bed, her eyes landed on that stilleto blade. Not as a potential weapon but as a reminder that he had given it to her. He'd gifted her that deadly weapon, his time, his protection even before she'd seen him in all his terrifying truth. Her fingers reached out, almost caressing the handle before she stood again. 

Her mind couldn't settle as she paced her room, trying to make sense of the terrifying beast hibernating down the hall somehow being the same as the charming man she was coming to know. His was the chaos she'd once feared. But was that true anymore? She honestly wasn't sure.

Finally, unable to get her mind to shut up and shut off, she found her way downstairs. Hopefully he wouldn't mind the fact that she got into his rum supply, because dammit she needed some alcohol after all this. At least she had the decency to use a glass still.

Alastor slept. Husk slept. Somewhere in the city another Overlord was similarly being patched together by his friends in a far less tender manner but no less chastisement for the chaos now running rampant on the internet. It had bolstered the fear of the Radio Demon, no amount of bad press able to subdue the fact that he did whatever he wanted to whomever he wanted, even the all time adored and popular media mogul that gave sinners such distractions from their fears. Alastor was barely considered an Overlord, stepping away from all the rules the title normally held, but the city was whispering his name again and that was all that mattered.

It lulled Alastor to pleasant rest, and if a new chiming tune he didn't have quite right was playing on the dead air stations no one knew what to make of it.

Expectedly Husk woke long before the deer, contemplating just leaving but finding the shred of decency to at least check out with the gal since he hoped, dearly, that Alastor had gone back to bed. So he cautiously, hyper quiet, prowled the house to at least let her know he was thinking to leave.

May was content to ignore and be ignorant of the fallout, the growing whispers of fear in Pentagram City. Not wanting to face the stairs after a decent portion of a rum bottle, she'd stumbled her way into the study she'd first seen. It was there that Husk would find her, curled up awkwardly in one of the armchairs next to the desk scattered with parts with her cheek pressed against the armrest as a makeshift pillow.

The rum bottle sat open, the cap laying nearby. A glass with a faint reside told Husk all he'd need to know about how she'd ended up there in that compacted curl, snoring softly as the booze helped mute the chattering of her mind.

That same decency drove him to toss a blanket over her with the care not to wake her, tidy the evidence of the binge, and get the hell out of dodge. Really his old heart couldn't take being around Alastor day in and out and if the gal wanted the trouble of him, which it seemed like she really did, then he just didn't care to fight about it. 

Locking up behind him he decided on speed instead of lazy walking and took the flight home, leaving the pair to their craziness without him.

She had no idea how long she'd slept by the time her body woke her up with the need to stretch and a pounding headache. Blinking blearily, she sat up with a loud hiss of pain as her body protested seemingly all at once the movement of rising to a sitting position. Then the throb of that headache hit her and she leaned forward with a miserable groan. The soreness of her back had faded with the sleep, replaced instead in some spots with an itch.

Draping the blanket over the arm of the chair, she moved to clean up her mess, only to find it had already been tidied. Had Alastor summoned Niffty? Couldn't be. There wasn't any food cooking in the kitchen and the blood smears on the walls were still there. Somewhere in that throbbing head she puzzled it out. Husker. That polite grump.

One hand gripping at her head, she wound her way to the stairs, much more stable now as she cursed each step. The movement angered muscles trapped curled for hours. She needed some water, a painkiller, and her bed, in that order. 

She didn't even crawl under the bedding once she'd taken care of the rest, instead simply pulling her cardigan over her shoulders and falling asleep again to the barely-audible radio. At least this time she could move properly.

Alastor was finding it hard to shake off sleep, rising from near coma levels to dozing and dipping again every few hours. Not unusual in his state but he despised wasting his own time resting. At some point his shadows peeked in on him, ensuring he was well and picking up on his frustration and concerns. There wasn't much they could do but the little one thought to at least ensure his pretty new pet was well, zipping off to find her room and cuddle against her sleeping form to send the thought back that she was there and well and would be watched.

Some part of her apparently sensed the presence of the little shade, curling around it even in her sleep. A softly murmured word escaped before she settled again. Apparently she'd needed the rest as well, even without the impulsive rum binge adding to it.

And like the demon down the hall her own wounds were healing over. By the time she woke only the very deepest bruises and wounds would remain, mottled yellow and green. Her shoulders twitched a bit as they itched, and healed over the shallowest ones.

At some point he was too hungry to sleep and too tired to move. But at least he could find his core, regenerated enough to send his shadow in his stead to the kitchen, watching loosely through its eyes as it worked to cook simple breakfast fare - the fastest meals to make! - and survey his wards through scattered shades. He was barely connected, more letting them know his wishes and taking the feedback of compliance. Dimly aware of the little one prodding May because she should tend herself too.

Annoyed at the pestering that stirred her from sleep, she'd initially tried to roll over away from the sensation only to have it start again. After a few moments she finally woke up grumbling, rolling onto her back and flinging her arm across her eyes. "Fine! I'm up! I'm up... God..." She huffed out, waving the persistent little shade off with the flicking motion of her other wrist.

Still not quite fully awake she pulled her old dress off after climbing off the bed. Finally one that didn't end up marked in blood!

A cold shower did wonders, pulling her brain into wakefulness and keeping the remaining healing wounds from throbbing too severely. Even the threatening hangover had left by the time she was dressed. She was really getting to enjoy the feel of those dresses. The skirts were just perfect.

Her damp hair was clipped up simply on the back of her head before she slid some low heels on. Just in case Alastor was awake, it wouldn't hurt to give him a nice sight.

Scooping up the bouncing little shade from her bedspread, she lifted it to her shoulder as she wandered down to the kitchen, stifling a yawn.

It was only too happy for the ride, kicking its feet and waving merrily at Shadow when they crossed into view of the higher shade. Giving them a crooked grin it waved back, darting over to do a circle around May in obvious inspection before patting her head and darting back to its cooking in high energy silence. Clearly distracted by looking at her but trying to balance its tasks and paying her attention, before it darted over to show her its bare hand, made a 'poofing' gesture like a magician, and handed her a cup of tea.

The happiness of the little shade perked her up a bit, and by the time they reached the kitchen she was smiling happily. She giggled softly as the larger Shade circled around her and patted her head. Clearly Alastor was feeling somewhat better if they were this active.

The little magic trick earned him a warm laugh as she took the cup. "Why thank you! So polite!" she smiled as she sipped it, leaning on a counter out of the way as she watched the shadow creature cook with seemingly as much energy as Alastor had that first afternoon.

"Is he feeling better, then?" she asked the Shade, knowing it didn't speak, but wanting a clue on the state of things.

The look he gave her was dubious at best, shaking his head back and forth, then gesturing at food with a grinning grimace. Several gestures towards itself and then a clear sign for 'itchy' and a laugh. 

After a moment's thought it turned to grab a plate, pushing it into her hands with a scolding finger, pointing to the items that were finished and then the stool.

She chuckled and nodded at the clear indication of that itchiness. "Me too, dear Shade. Me too..." She smiled, reaching up to scratch one of the more persistent ones on her neck.

The insistent pushing of the plate into her hand was a surprise though, and she took it more by automatic reaction than anything else. But seeing that finger wagging before indicating what it wanted, she sighed and shook her head.

"Alright, alright. Food first. Got it," she answered the silent thing, before filling her plate and sitting on the stool to start eating.

Beaming at her, it resumed its task, happily wagging its tail to a tune she couldn't hear. With her eating what it thought was a proper amount, maybe, it started zipping other portions away through shadows to the rather grumpily immobile demon upstairs.

She had definitely taken a proper portion. She wasn't sure if anything else would have been accepted by the Shade. "Thank you for the breakfast. Best shadow-made meal I've ever had," she chuckled, watching the portions disappear to the upstairs as she worked to clear her own meal. 

"Is he back to..." how could she even define what was normal for Alastor. She pondered a moment, tapping the tines of her fork against the plate. "Is he still nesting or is he back to armchairs?"

Hopefully that was easy enough to interpret the answer to, trying to determine which "version" of him she might expect.

He gave a grandiose bow at her praise, definitely showing where Alastor got his showmanship - or where he stored it depending how you looked at it. Her question made him ponder, turning to cross his arms before tapping his head in sign for thought, giving a wishywashy hand sign, then pointing to the ground for right now, his antlers. Which were always in full rack as opposed to Alastor's more subdued pair. Shrugging, he finished his 'deliveries' and twirled around the island to curl arms around her shoulders, nuzzling cheek to cheek to point at her chest with a what? gesture after. Inquiring.

After a bit of puzzling over the series of gestures and signs she thought she had it. "Still a wendigo, then, got it."

She was caught off guard when it came around to embrace her, though. Shivering a little at the cold brush of the shadow's cheek against hers.

She puzzled fruitlessly over that second set of signs though. Her chest? Heart? 

"What are you asking me? Something about me? My heart?" she tilted her head, a small frown of confusion crossing her face "How I feel?"

It nodded vigorously, squeezing her even though it was rolling its luminescent eyes. Still a wendigo? Ha. Like that ever stopped. 

But it pointed up at its antlers again, then her, wiggling back and forth with its hug hostage, trying to pry her state from her with bright smiles

She pondered a moment longer. Heart... No wait, feelings. What, regarding her. Antlers. That had to be Alastor.

"How... Do I feel about him? Is that what you mean?" she asked curiously, even as she laughed at the way it wiggled her in his arms. 

Lifting a last bit of food in her fingers, she tossed it above her shoulder for the Shade like a more innocent version of that same game they'd played in the cold storage.

He literally snapped it up, jaws a bear trap as he wiggled more, planting a brushing kiss on her cheek for the act before spinning her to wrap his arms around her waist. Looking up and then at her again with an emphatic nod. Then pointing at her again and smiling, frowning, smiling. Worried she was upsetted.

She blushed softly at that cold brush of a kiss before she was spun around and embraced. The gestures now were simple enough to understand. 

Her fingers settled on the Shades shoulders softly, reassuringly, before she planted a kiss on his cheek this time. A sweet creature, even if it was an extension of the Demon upstairs.

"He scares me, sometimes, but..." she started, her tone gentle. Not at all upset or frightened. "But I think I find myself caring for him. I can't explain it."

She smiled softly again, still searching for words. It was such a tangled mess up there. So many emotions surrounding that antlered figure. But she was trying to follow the threads of those thoughts.

"I can't imagine leaving him though, not by choice. I don't know what to call it. Love? Can one have that in Hell? Definitely more than friendship," she chuckled softly, blushing at the memories that resurfaced. "But don't worry. I'm not upset. Just trying to untangle my own brain. I don't know if that answers your question but I hope it helped," she chuckled. For all she knew it only confused the matter further.

She had its whole focus, eyes intent even if it tilted its head at her questions. Not understanding at all. It heard what it wanted though, that she was fine and staying and that translated to her being pleased. Which pleased Shadow, immensely. 

Holding her close he pressed his forehead to hers, wiggling and grinning a curling smile he hoped conveyed how very, very happy he was with that. She was good for the master and he liked her. Sweet, tasty little gal!

She couldn't help but smile at the excited way it embraced her. How could she do anything else when faced with that Cheshire Grin floating in front of her face?

"Apparently you're happy I'm staying," she chuckled, reaching up to playfully pinch that void of a cheek for a moment. "And I like you too. And all the other shadows. Because you're all part of him, so how could I not?"

Smirking a bit, she tapped the spot where a nose would be on the shade, drawing it's focus back to her eyes. "And you can tell Alastor all of that. I know you do that somehow," she chuckled, fully aware they were connected in some unknown way.

The mention of sharing information with Alastor made the Shade laugh, leaning back to wave it off as a nonissue. Her assumptions aside, he wasn't going to correct or explain much on the topic since that was a mildly kept secret only the master should express. 

Giving her a little space he watched her, leering unconsciously and still turning her words over with his own curiosity, hoping Alastor would gain more than he did from them. Quietly tapping at her shoulder, testing her bruises with a claw to see if she winced away. It was very flattering to see his own bites on her, a bit individual from the cleaner marks of Alastor's fangs.

The way that shade watched her made her curious. Hard to read a figure that was a shadow. But she let him touch and tap with those strangely solid fingers. Some of the deeper bruises or bites earned a slight twitch or tensing of muscle but she didn't pull away. 

"Checking for something?" she asked curiously, arching a brow as he seemed to be examining for something she didn't know.

Shaking his head he just made a picking gesture with his fingers, grinning wider somehow and confessing he was just teasing and needling her wounds. Something he continued, pressing harder with an open attempt to prickle his claws on her. One ear flicked towards the call of Alastor as the demon started to move about but he ignored it for his innocent game.

As he continued poking and exploring, he finally found one that was tender, making her body move away automatically to relieve the pressure with a faint grunt.

The next one though, earned him a hissed breath and a slight arch of her back as his claw prodded painfully against one of the deeper wounds. Her hand rose to grab the shadow's wrist before he could probe further, breathing with intentional steadiness to ease the throbbing in the wound.

"That hurts," she said simply, not sure if it had been entirely intentional or not. Either way her hand moved the shadow's claws away from the painful spot before releasing him with coolness lingering in her fingertips.

He let her move him, amused and slightly victorious to see her do so. There was no way he could imagine conveying his questions, why she didn't mind the pain when it was inflicted but did now, so he nodded. Merely confirming that yes, he knew it did. 

A sharper tug on his leash made him jerk, looking upward with a narrowed gaze before rising away from her and outstretching his hand in a clear urge to lead her. Still looking towards the demon like a homing beacon. The next pull would hurt and he wasn't one to be disobedient for long.

Thankful he didn't prod again, she was at least pleased he seemed to comprehend that it caused her pain. His curiosity over her wounds made her wonder exactly what he'd been hoping to get out of that little game of his.

Tilting her head as he suddenly jerked and glared upward, she was quick to follow him as he indicated, feeling a strange flutter of excitement. Maybe Alastor was finally functional again!

Waving him on with a shooing gesture, she encouraged the shade on ahead of her. "I'll be there in a moment. Go on!"

Sparing her a quick glance he held up one finger, agreeing but emphasizing not to dawdle and then slipped into nothingness as he evaporated like a mist. Joining Alastor upstairs where the deer was getting himself back to rights with a fixed smile as he tended his appearance and looked for his spare monocle. He really needed to stop breaking them. 

Contact with his shadow conveyed their conversation in full, the shade melting into a mere reflection at his feet. Pausing, he took time to absorb the odd topic and more unexpected responses before chuckling lowly to himself. Love. Oh surely many found it in Hell but him? What a terrible idea, truly.

Seeing the shade evaporate she hurried after. Physical forms could be so irritating, being made to take the long way around instead of just clipping through reality.

After a few more moments she had reached the door, slightly breathless at the rush she'd put on through the house to get there. Unclipping her hair, she tousled it slightly to free up the half-curled locks. Slipping the clip into the pocket of her dress, she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles on his door.

A moment later he answered the door himself, smiling wide as he stepped back out of the way and resumed neatening his cuffs with fairly sure movements. Dressed almost entirely in black today, his customary red only on his vest and tie. "Hello dear! Why, aren't you quick spirited this morning." Was it morning? He had no idea, glancing to the clock and seeing it was still technically before noon so that counted. 

For all appearances he looked whole and hale, posture and motion fluid despite his lingering wounds but they were nothing compared to what they'd been. And certainly not visible. "Rest well in the quiet?"

Her face lit up happily as he opened the door personally, before chuckling softly and following him in. "Your shade seemed to feel like I shouldn't delay."

Following him in, she was happy to see him back to his more usual self, rather than the crashed-out mess she'd seen the day before. "It took a bit but I got there," she shrugged. "I might still be asleep if not for the little one _insistently_ pestering me awake until I went down to eat."

The smile on her face said she didn't really care that much about being awoken, and she watched him finish his final adjustments to his clothing. "You look like you're feeling much better today, yourself. I hope you rested well."

"One should never miss a meal, you never know when you need the energy!" He laughed, amused by her story because he was entirely surprised that she had made the tiny friend. Her charisma was endearing. 

"I had told you I was quite alright. Why, I feel posilutely charming after a good rest." He made no promises to being recovered, using his upbeat tone to express that instead. "Enough so that I have a duty to perform I thought you might be interested in. Unless avoiding other Lords was still on your list of priorities." He raised a brow, tone teasing as she had so clearly failed that mission in the first place. It absolutely had nothing to do with wanting to be scarce when Niffty came by to wash him off of the walls and entirely to do with social obligations.

Well now. That got her attention. Was he inviting her along to an official Overlord function? It took a moment for her to work out the answer. He'd caught her off-guard with that one. Normally she definitely would have avoided them but, seeing as she would be with one...

"I, well, if you think it wouldn't cause some sort of problem," a half-answer. Of _course_ she was curious enough to want to go. Or maybe she just wanted to see what the reaction would be. Most likely a blend of both.

"I probably should work on not being such a homebody," she finally said. "I'm sure going out would be a great idea. "

"No problem at all, although it might be unexpected on my part. Still, I think you'll enjoy it." To some extent surely, although he didn't give it much thought. There were more reasons to take her out than simple amusement. 

Giving her a glance over he mused on her appearance before just deciding to leave early and make a stop. "Do you have your things? I'll take you for an appropriate dress before the venue." Rather quiet about exactly where his duties lay for the evening.

An excited smile spread across her face and she clapped excitedly. "Let me get them! I'll be right back!"

And with that she scurried from the room to fetch her things. Thinking ahead she also grabbed a few extra things. It wouldn't do to show up well dressed but with no makeup, after all.

A few minutes later she reappeared in his room, having found a small clutch to carry her things. Although the knife, of course, was hidden on her person like usual. She had found she liked the feel of it pressed against her, it was reassuring.

"Ready!" she responded with excitement. She hadn't been this eager to go out in years and it showed.

Her enthusiasm was darling, keeping him chuckling as he took in her purely feminine excitement with a fondness. Not something he was used to seeing directed at him, at least not so brightly.

"Well then, humor my extravagance Miss May~" He slipped a hand around her waist, taking them to a very well lit and clean alley nowhere near the sinners avenues of Hell, "but I promise you it's worth it." 

Guiding her to the street he kept the sneer off his lips at the hellhounds walking past and pointed her towards a dress shop where the articles in the display window might very well cost more than her prior home's entire building. "What color would you like?"

She didn't fail to notice that he hadn't taken her arm like usual. It needled at her curiosity but she somehow managed to press the question down as he led her through that shadow.

Stepping from the strangely clean alley was an experience. The whole area screamed wealth and class. Still clad in her simple dress she already felt out of place and she nervously tapped a claw against the side of her clutch as he guided her down the street. She wouldn't have been surprised to see Lilith herself appear, and the idea made her nearly lose heart entirely.

The clothing in that window was breathtaking. She didn't even want to imagine the cost. But one certainly drew her eye. It almost mimicked his own clothes of the evening, deep red details over a field of black. She couldn't be sure but it almost looked like it was practically jeweled in a looping pattern down the bodice and over one hip, glittering under the display lights like droplets of frozen blood. The others were no less decorated and styled, fitting for the upper crust she had fallen into.

"Oh my..." she breathed out, simply lost for words as she gazed at that gown.

Alastor couldn't help that he'd seen it as well, looking between the dress and May from the corner of his eye. Stepping them inside as she moved in a near haze at his side. "Exquisite as that would look on you, you needn't wear red for my sake. But whatever you wish~" Not making an argument of it he looked over his shoulder to a confident looking avian who came to their side at once. 

"Help my lady look at that one, would you my friend." Perfectly polite and the demon nodded, moving to gather it and show her to a fitting room staffed for proper fitting and not merely a trial behind a curtain.

She was about to reassure him that it _was_ what she wished, but he'd already motioned over the attendant. Soon shown into the full fitting area, she was simply in awe. The speed at which they worked was amazing, ensuring a truly custom fit by the time she stepped out.

That jeweled pattern fell from the neckline fluidly, curling perfectly over the swell of one hip to peter out by mid-thigh where it met the top of a graceful slit while the rest fell smoothly to her ankles. Her mere breathing set it to glittering under the lights, and it was all she could do to keep breathing at all. It didn't even feel real, like the slightest shift could shatter whatever illusion or dream had her. 

"This is too much," she said softly, gathering those loose curls on one side of her neck. "Alastor, you _shouldn't_."

Not can't. She knew he _could_.

Alastor was caught in a deep internal conversation about whether it was appropriate to stare at that quantity of crimson on her curves, and if anyone would dare call him on it, when she jolted him from his thoughts. Really, as long as they were clean what did it matter what he thought?

"I assure you it's not, and I certainly _will_ " He dismissed her thoughts kindly, already handing over his card because he wasn't letting her walk out without that. Hell, he might just have her wear it about for the ambiance of his home.

"If it soothes your nerves I promise not to bleed you in that one unless you ask very nicely~" He winked, batting her hands from her hair to fuss a few curls back into a nice array. Tilting his head to see how her pale colors looked with it all.

That teasing promise pulled a bright flush to her cheeks, her fingers releasing those curls she'd been fidgeting with as he swatted her hands away gently. If not for the steady glinting of that dress, one would have thought she was entirely still as he fussed at her.

The dark color of the gown only accentuated that porcelain tone to her skin. She was just amazed she'd managed to put the understated smoky makeup on without flubbing it in her nervousness. 

After a moment or two of him examining her she finally found a bit of footing again and smiled. "Do I pass inspection, my Lord? Everything in order?" she chuckled softly.

That little title made his eyes pop brightly, enjoying it more than he would have guessed. As if to demonstrate he caught her waist, giving her a brief spin right there in the store - onlookers be damned.

"You look absolutely stunning dear, you'll be all anyone looks upon." An honest opinion, rather startled himself that he had such an escort. Imagine what the gossip would be!

"Now, it's a bit of a walk but care to take a stroll?" His card was returned with a quiet thank you from the clerk as Alastor gestured outside.

A soft squeal escaped her as he spun her, caught by surprise to his reaction. Apparently he'd liked that, and she stashed that little fact away in her mind as he settled her to the ground again.

Her cheeks colored softly again as she caught the eyes on the onlookers on them, her gaze dropping shyly at his compliments as she clasped her hands around the clutch bag again for a moment until his voice lifted her eyes again.

"I think that sounds lovely, Alastor," she smiled, trying to encourage herself to relax as she squared her shoulders, holding her small bag loosely at her side.

The Overlord was all grins as he escorted the girl through the proper districts of Hell, taking his time to eat up being anything like 'on time' to the venue he headed towards. He had her hand find his arm, cane manifested to spin idly at his side.

Here people didn't quake at seeing him, politely giving him space and perhaps whispering but too proud or feeling exempt to flee. And those inclined certainly stared at May. 

Now and then he pointed out interesting shops, dropping hints he might take her when she had a more ample bag and time to 'browse' to her content, simply enjoying the mild showmanship of having a lady on his arm like a proper man.

Her arm threaded easily through his at his encouragement. After so long of having entire crowds parting around them, it was almost strange to not see fear writ large across their faces. But the stares made her wonder quietly what was being shared upon their passing. 

As he started pointing out different shops, hinting about her needing a bigger bag next time, she chuckled. Even as the image of a lady on his arm, she smirked. "You'd be surprised how easily things can be hidden," she dropped mysteriously. "All it takes is a little creativity and the occasional good distraction."

"I think I can safely say most eyes are normally on me, so no issue there~" He stage whispered, enjoying the idea tremendously of robbing these too snobbish hellborn of their exotic wares. "I don't often show myself here, most Lords do not, and I think I often stand out just a smidge." At least today he was trying to make the effort to go for class without being an eyesore. A small concession to the crowds they were in. 

Eventually they walked to a cathedral style venue complete with towers and wings of colored glass windows, lit from within to almost look like a rave except for the general quiet of the building. There was a line outside of well dressed sinners, nothing quite as fine as themselves, being slowly ushered inside after scrutiny of whatever money was exchanging hands with no signs anywhere as to what they were attending. Alastor did not go to that door. Instead he took the opposite where a man dressed as an actual guard looked him over, then May, and held the door for them to enter the overly dramatic theatre.

"Hmm. You may be indeed useful in the future then" she joked back in that same conspiratorial whisper, smiling playfully. She'd spotted a few shops that looked promising but she'd have to determine that later, not when they were headed toward that opulent building.

Yet again he worked the mysterious angle. No signs, no indication of what she was about to experience. It was maddening to that irrepressible curiosity. Once permitted access, she leaned close, whispering to him as they walked across the theatre entry. " _Where_ are you _taking_ me?"

Pursing his lips in a terribly mischievous smile he leaned back to whisper just as urgently. "Does it _really matter_?" He couldn't help but giggle, walking her through a lobby and up a staircase to another floor where he turned them to a different stairway with another guard who obviously recognized him on sight and made no point of even looking them over.

Heading up those stairs he took his time for her, pretending the climb was not fatiguing to his aches and pains. "All you need know is to _trust me_ and be your charming self, dear. It's just fun!"

His response got him a playful pout, emphasizing her lower lip for a moment before she giggled right along with him. "You're so _cruel!_ How can you stand to torture me like this?" she giggled softly, that mischief obvious in her smile as she climbed the stairs alongside him.

As they climbed that second set of stairs, she smiled warmly and gave his arm a soft pat. "I do trust you. But you also are horrible, dangling the unknown like this!" 

Her words were totally playful, evidenced by that sidelong teasing smile she gave him.

Humming, he just smiled and got her to the top of the flight, doing a complicated twirl of his cane to hold it behind him and extend an arm to pull back a curtain to the upper theater reception with a flourish. "Yes. Yes I am. After you, my Lady." Fully aware that was nerve wracking for the shy gal.

Shyness. Nothing that could flourish long around Alastor if he had his way about it.

Inside was a large reception floor, the entire upper balcony that overviewed the stage set like a luxuriant lounge with couches and tables. A private bar to one side and low lights. And...the leaders of Hell. So many were not part of the public eye but recognizable figure heads and lords, their escorts if they even brought any and adult children. Mostly populated by the Goetic demons and the upper families like the Eldritch and Hades circles but other sinner side Lords mingled and lounged. And certainly, obviously, the Magne family.

 _Ever the showman_ she thought to herself, just before she blushed brightly at his words. She still wasn't used to how he could just lay on the charm like that so easily.

Trying to remember how to breathe, she stepped through the curtain and nearly froze. A week ago she'd only ever seen these individuals on newsfeeds in stores or from past religious lore. And now she was _here_ , treading the same floor as the highest members of Hell's Society.

"Alastor... Alastor please be there" she whispered as she reached behind her, more to herself than him. She needed the support of him at her side in the face of this.

Catching her hand easily he didn't leave her floundering, tucking her back to his side perhaps a bit closer than before in a possessive hold. "I'm right here, darling. Breathe." He whispered but his expression was pure sadistic delight at seeing her heart skip at their company. That which he led her into with fluid steps.

With soft words he pointed out a few groups. The Eldritch family and the bickering child with the princess. The group of feline demons he named in a circle as Purson, Vine, and Malephor. He nodded at Stolas and kept her moving towards a couch where a woman sat alone with her drink overlooking the banister to the crowd below. 

Prim and just as layered and proper as he was, she startled when she turned to see him and clapped her hands in chastisement. "Alastor! You absolute rascal I was worried you couldn't make it!" Her tone had the edge of a full lecture behind it but kept it quiet in the proper crowd. 

"Pardon my dear, but here I am! And this is my Miss May. May, this is Miss Rosie~ an old friend of mine." He gestured between the women, bowing in apology to the other Lord.

Her relief was nearly palpable as he tucked her back against his side, calming the flicker of panic that threatened. The crowd drew her attention, leaving her completely unaware of that momentary sadistic grin that crossed his face.

Following along at his side, she knew she'd never remember all of the names he gave her. She frankly didn't see how he remembered them all but then, perhaps it was easier when one mingled with them regularly. Thankfully she did recognize a few from studies, and was impressed at how accurate the pictures of Malephor and Stolas had been. She stole more than one awed glance at the Magnes as Alastor guided her through the crowd and toward that solitary woman.

Completely unsure if there was some protocol she should be performing at the introduction, she took a best guess. Placing one hand on her chest, she inclined her head slightly to the other woman for a moment before smiling up at her.

"It's lovely to meet you, Miss Rosie. Alastor has spoken quite highly of you."

A half-truth. He _had_ spoken of the other Overlord, but May was certain of his respect for her simply from his greeting. Plus a little buttering up couldn't hurt, right?

Even if the greeting amused her Rosie looked delighted, raising a hand to her lips with a small smile. "Well he is quite the flatterer, but it's a delight to meet you! Come, sit. Let me see the woman Alastor brought to the den so boldly." She patted the couch beside her, tilting her posture to be welcoming.

Alastor, for his manners, took a seat across from Rosie with a straight backed stiffness he often had in these crowds. "Miss May has been staying with me. Quite welcomely." Offhanded as he glanced around with a clear search of someone in the crowd he had yet to see, looking back only when the prim woman tsk'd under her breath. 

"Then she knows why I am cross with you. Behaving like that just before a show!" It was difficult to find her gaze but no mistaking the way she narrowed them at the deer who had the decency to at least lessen his confident grin to something contrite. "Fairly said."

May glanced up at Alastor curiously at that invitation. Den? That was slightly unsettling. But nevertheless she slid smoothly onto the seat next to the prim woman as Alastor glanced about and explained how she'd ended up here.

She liked Miss Rosie almost immediately. "He definitely gave quite a fright." May agreed with Rosie while smiling subtly at Alastor. What a subtle little firecracker Rosie seemed to be. "But he patches up nicely, so long as he can be forced into a good meal and some sleep."

She did Alastor the courtesy at least of not going into detail of how hard that process had been. He actually had managed to pull off a convincingly contrite expression.

Turning to Rosie, May smiled. "So since my stubborn, devious partner here simply refuses to tell me what he's dragged me into, maybe you can give me a hint of what exactly I've just been looped into tonight"

Holding Alastor's eyes just a moment longer, ceding that he at least looked well, Rosie let him off the hook to turn to May. "Men always are difficult. You're a dear to try with that one." Ignoring the scoff from beside them she flicked a hand daintily. "Go get a drink and find your prey, dear, leave proper chat to us." 

Dismissed, Alastor barely looked affronted when he rose to do exactly that with a gleeful smile like a child let off leash, only murmuring he'd be back in a moment then before slipping towards the bar before beelining towards Valentino. It wasn't hard to spot that eyesore in the crowd.

"A hint dear? Why, no reason to ruin a surprise then. Tell me, why would you imagine the leaders of Hell and sin gather in a theatre?" Her brows raised invitingly, the question gentle as she sipped her drink which looked very much like average tea.

May couldn't resist the chuckle that escaped her. Oh yes. She definitely liked Rosie. Her eyes watched Alastor slip away, practically beaming in excitement. But the question from Miss Rosie drew her attention back before she saw Alastor's target.

"Aside from mingling and getting to posture and saber-rattle at each other?" She laughed softly, glancing about at the gathered elites and power figures. "I wouldn't have a clue. Forgive my ignorance but just a week ago I was still scrabbling in the Sinner's circles and trying to avoid annual Exterminator invasions."

Patting May's hand kindly Rosie tittered, certainly agreeing with the summation of what half the lords saw as the perks to these get togethers. "Well...the boys do that on their own time enough. This is far more civil. But don't fret, love, there is no violence permitted here." 

Nodding her head to the Magne couple, currently trying to look like they were surveying the others while Lucifer wasn't distractedly staring at his wife, she lowered her voice. "Doesn't she look lovely tonight? Just like a shining star." Indeed the queen was opulently dressed, glittering with scarves hanging on her elbows and a dress so low cut it might have been held shut by her belted sash. A far too direct view for the King who was admittedly uncaring who saw him staring.

May glanced at the royal couple and nodded. She certainly did have to agree. "She always does. I managed to sneak my way into one of her shows once and she's just astounding. Though how Lucifer concentrates around her at all I have no idea " she chuckled, before returning her gaze to the crowd at large. 

"Everyone here looks amazing." She couldn't help but observe through the sea of fine fabrics and glittering jewelry, finally spotting Alastor and Valentino talking. So that's where he'd gotten off to.

Honestly she was in quiet awe of the entire situation. A dress that she couldn't even imagine the cost of. An elite gathering area full of the highest society members.

"Would you mind terribly showing me where I could get some of that tea, Miss Rosie? Alastor was supposed to bring me some the other night but he _claims_ he lost it on the way home from Vox's tower." She chuckled softly and grinned playfully. "I think he just plain forgot."

Rosie followed her gaze, momentarily watching the usual dance of the ever touch happy Valentino trying to lay hands on Alastor as the deer kept space between them without looking like a retreat. She could easily imagine they were discussing the still absent Vox and exchanging barbs. 

"Oh, I doubt he forgot but he may be having a few complications in retrieving them at the moment. So come along, love~" Rising, Rosie patted her skirts and led May to the bar where the attendant was quick to turn from cleaning to offer an arrangement of teas to the ladies, already trained to Rosie's preferences against alcohol. 

Turning back while she waited, she nodded at the belated thought. "Our dear King certainly is besotted. It's quite adorable to see. A shame more don't take his example. She's a lucky lady."

Selecting her favorite, Earl Grey, she waited next to Rosie as the attendants worked. Her response came as she was watching Alastor though, a faint smile curling her lips as she watched him evade the pimp's hands. "Mmm, indeed. Very lucky."

With the rattle of a teacup being set at her elbow, she pulled her gaze away, clearing her throat a bit before lifting the cup. A soft blow to cool it before she sipped, letting out a delighted sigh at the beverage. So much gentler than coffee.

"Thank you, Rosie. This is exactly what I needed. It's been a rather intense time recently. I'm sure you know exactly why."

Patting May's arm softly, the Overlord tsk'd under her breath. "Perhaps not exactly, but I suspect he is an abrupt divergence for many people he meets. I've never seen anything but gentility, but I've heard the rest. I wish you luck." Her tone was comforting, no sympathy or pity but a pragmatic understanding that a mere sinner off the street had a lot to adapt to without any malice voiced. No desire to see her fail.

Beside them a young man with near perfect androgyny and angelic features chuckled, tilting his glass towards them. "I doubt the lass needs much luck, M'lady. She would welcome his _attention_." Delivered with smooth innuendo before he glanced over at Alastor as well. "Quite a pursuit, Mary." He winked while Rosie fixed him with a stern but silent disapproval.

A warm smile crossed her face at Rosie's kindness, about to reassure the woman that it really wasn't all bad, that she'd actually mostly quite enjoyed his company. That he had been nearly a perfect gentleman.

But the answer was cut off by the stranger. May flicked her gaze over toward him curiously as he inserted himself with his response, lifting her teacup for another sip. But the implication, delivered with such smooth, innuendous ease, made her flush brightly. 

Trying to maintain a badly failed poker face, May sipped awkwardly at her tea. She didn't even have the presence of mind to try to figure out who the stranger was or how he immediately knew so much about her. She was simply busy trying to get her heart rate to settle so she could stop blushing so brightly as Rosie stared him down.

When he just continued to watch her, smiling sweetly at her flushed silence, Rosie cleared her throat. "Sir, that really isn't very kind. What business lays there is not really~" 

"Isn't it exactly my business? M'Lady that is what _I do_. It breaks my _heart_ seeing a sweet young lass flounder in an affection that falls on deaf ears. Why~ I so dearly just wish to help!" He sounded so earnest, almost pouting and apologetic. Gesturing to May, so near to but not touching, he raised his brows. Rosie opened her mouth to retort but he held up a finger, quieting her.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to know if you have a chance with our dear Music Man? Hm?" A smooth, kind inquiry.

She silently thanked Rosie for that defense, even if she'd been cut off midway through. By the time the stranger's attention returned to her she'd managed to somewhat compose herself, the flush fading on her cheeks.

His question raised that temptation. Did she really want that knowledge? Perhaps. But then a thread of suspicion worked into the thoughts. What _cost_ would that knowledge bring her? It was Pandora's Box and she noticeably pondered over the offer he'd made, claws tapping at the rim of the teacup in her grasp.

"Of course I would," she began, seeing the stranger's eyes light up in excitement. She plunged on before he could speak. "But I'm not going to ask for it. He's... Dear to me and I don't want anything else. Even if I don't have a chance, I'm willing to not know." 

Her eyes fixed more securely on the stranger's now, finding a bit of spine as she straightened beside Rosie, nearly looking the part of an Overlord herself for a moment. "So whatever payment you're looking for, I refuse to give it."

His face twisted momentarily, eyes flashing feral and smile fangs instead of the shiny white smile. But he laughed, lowly, and this time he _did_ pluck up her right hand to press his lips to the back of it, holding it hostage.

"Oh, little lady, I asked no price and didn't _need_ you to ask. Merely a concerned romantic hoping to help a young beauty get the fullest attention you deserve from a very stubborn man." He purred, sounded very feline in a satisfied manner. Secreting a very lovely bottle of scented flower oils into her bag. What lady could resist trying a subtle gift, especially an innocuous one?

"I'll hope you enjoy your evening then~ Do pardon the interruption." He bowed to her like she had status and turned to rejoin his friends, a group of men and lions in different configurations.

Finally Rosie took a harsh inhale, mildly squeaking. "My! You do have pluck, don't you! I think I'd like to sit down." Collecting her tea and moving with purpose to reclaim her couch.

She frowned as he lifted her hand into a polite kiss. But she tolerated it. Barely. Once her fingers were released she flexed her hand a few times as if to shake off the sensation of his lips as her eyes stared after him until he rejoined his group. If that stare could have burned holes he wouldn't have made it there.

And finally she released that breath, steadying herself with a sigh as she collected her own things and followed Rosie back to the couch, unaware of the new item secreted in her bag amidst the distraction. She gave the other woman a few moments to settle before glancing to make sure the stranger wasn't watching before she finally settled herself as well. "Who in the Nine Circles did I nearly just get myself tangled up with, Rosie?"

It was over a century of practice that kept Rosie from looking back as well, instead adopting a peaceful expression by pure will. A glance at Alastor showed he had missed the entire thing, which may be for the best. 

"Lord Sytry. And thank goodness he was in a kind mood. He's a notorious matchmaker and romantic, but he's not above extreme humiliation." She was feather quiet, almost speaking to her tea as she watched the crowd. At least the King had seen it, one brow raised after the goetic lord with an unreadable stare.

May's face dropped into her hand, pinching at the bridge of her nose as she swore under her breath for a moment. Of course she risked a scene with a Goetic Demon. One that apparently knew _way too much_ about the conflict in her own mind.

"Of _course_ it was. Because why would I stumble into anything else," she responded in a moment of dark humor, taking a deep sip of her tea before she chuckled. For a moment she just sat with Rosie quietly, watching the crowds below as they worked on their tea.

"Part of me still thinks I should have said yes." She finally admitted, setting the remnants of her tea aside before opening her clutch to reapply her lip color. It was with a confused expression that she pulled out the bottle that had been slipped inside. She turned it in her fingers slightly, watching the light shine off the finely made bottle. This wasn't hers. Where had this come from? Had Alastor secreted it there somehow?

"This evening your choices are somewhat limited, love. But that's alright...everyone here must behave and most are quite pleasant. I just disagree with that one for personal reasons." Rosie tried to help May dismiss it, still a bit agitated herself and being supportive of the younger woman. Desperately wishing Alastor would come back over and -

Then her dark eyes were covered by a hand, another plucking her tea away with a bright "Guess who!" giggled in her ear. Rosie couldn't help but smile, suddenly dropping her concerns. "Velvet, you're very tardy." 

The doll threw herself over the couch to forcefully hug the proper woman, getting a fond sigh as her fluffy, cotton candy skirts were set to rights for her. "I know I am but the show hasn't started yet. Vox was being a baby because _your_ little bro was a butt, and then I have to medicate a box. Do you know how hard it is to force him to rest? I need a damn remote he can't scramble. It's stupid. He's stupid." Long with dramatic sighs and completely oblivious to the stranger beside them as she finally managed a rant about her day.

The reassurance did encourage her a bit. Rosie had a point--it's not like there were many folks there that weren't some form of powerful demon in some way or another.

But the appearance of Velvet distracted her from pondering over that bottle for a moment. Alastor must have wanted to surprise her, she decided as she slid it into her bag again and rose from her seat, smoothing her dress.

"Apologies. I'm going to go freshen up a bit and perhaps fetch some more tea for us. That way you can catch up with your friend here for a few moments."

With a polite smile to the two women, she wandered off to find the ladies' to ensure her hair was still in order and touch up her make-up. As she slid the lipstick back into her bag, she pulled the bottle of oils free. Uncapping it, she gave it a sniff, curious to see what scent it contained. 

It was _beautiful_. She could hardly believe it. A few moments later, she had rejoined the glittering crowds, a few strategically placed dabs of that sweet-smelling oil in place as she carefully picked her way toward the bar again.

Velvet had only offered her a brief look, more admiring her dress with a toothy grin as she monopolized Rosie's attention with all the skill of a practiced center of attention. When May came back she was still prattling, having taken her seat to give the older demoness space to resume her tea without fear of spilling it.

She caught Alastor's eye in passing, almost unconscious as he was just as drawn to her colors as to looking out for her in the crowd but Valentino was doing all he could to schmooze a deal out of him, keeping him on guard to avoid too many hands or sly words, even as he was politely trying to escape any commitment. It left the girl freely alone when Lucifer decided to creep behind her, giving her a subtle inspection as to any untoward behavior Sytry might have pulled. "Enjoying yourself, little one?"

After attracting the attention of the attendant, she had requested two more teas. Giving a soft sigh, noticing Alastor was still tied up with the brightly-dressed Valentino, she slipped back into her crowd-watching. The mismatched pair of Velvet and Rosie made her chuckle to herself. Hell certainly had fun tossing the oddest folks together.

Hearing a smooth voice from behind, obviously directed at her, she turned and froze with a soft gasp. She had to blink for a moment before she found her voice again--staring in pure shock at the literal Ruler of Hell.

"L... Lord Lucifer!" she managed to squeak out, grasping at the bar subtly as he watched her. "I didn't see you. My deepest apologies." Not even answering the question in her shocked reaction.

Shrugging with a close eyed grin, Lucifer rocked on his heels in good humor. "That happens more than you'd think. It's very handy! But _you_ , I think everyone has seen _you_. I dont think I've seen Alastor bring anyone in a very long time. Bewitching him, are you?" He knew she wasn't, already determining the sort of assistance Sytry had provided, but it never hurt to tease.

"Not that I don't support teasing the leash a bit, but he's a fun one to watch." He laughed, eyes unreadable over a grin. Careful scrutiny of a little soul he'd not given much attention to prior. Why should he, until she was suddenly dragged to his attention.

She swallowed nervously, lifting one hand to tuck her hair back at the mention that she'd been _noticed_. Granted, she had rather expected that, but not quite to _this_ level. 

"I'm afraid you have it backwards, my Lord," she chuckled softly, a faint flush coloring her cheeks again. "I think he's more bewitching me. When he's not distracted, that is." 

Her hand lifted to indicate the deer doing that careful dance against the insect's attempts to corner him--both literally and figuratively.

"I am enjoying myself, though. This is an amazing time. Thank you." she answered finally with a smile as the attendant placed the fresh teacups down. "Pardon me, my Lord, but I'd promised Miss Rosie a fresh cup of tea."

May's not so subtle attempt to flee was rather cute, and brazen to the King himself, and he chuckled warmly as he nodded and let her go. "I'd not keep a Lady waiting then. Enjoy the show." And then he turned to go free the deer from one very large pest because _this_ was going to be interesting.

Rosie indeed was waiting for her but just as much to have some semblance of distraction from the girl who was complaining about the no phone rule in the theater and how she couldn't get pictures of everyone's outfits as actually wanting tea.

Thankful and not a little surprised at how easily Lucifer had let her slip away, she offered a quiet thanks to the tenders before picking up the steaming mugs of tea. Carefully she worked her way over to the seating area again, quietly holding out one of the cups to Rosie as Velvet fussed. 

"Sorry about that. I got rather waylaid at the bar," she offered once Rosie took her tea, without going into any detail. She was sure enough other people had seen the interaction, brief as it was, for the story to start to circulate just fine on it's own. 

Settling into an empty seat she offered a smile at Velvet. "I hope I didn't seem rude. I figured you and Miss Rosie might like to chat."

Rosie nodded and hummed her thanks, thinking rather little of the angel playing host at his own gathering. He was mostly, often, harmless to well behaved sinners.

The doll just blinked over, caught mid thought before giving a chaotic grin. "Oh no, not rude. Less you're trying to steal my girl! Then I'd break your legs!" Rosie scoffed, turning a dry look Velvet's way but ignored. "But Hi! I'm Velvet. Who are you Miss pretty in red because Oh my god you look good enough to eat. Dont look like some rando plus one. Rosie, did I miss a newbie?" Looking between them, bouncing a bit in her seat as a fidget.

May laughed softly and cupped her fingers around her fresh tea. "I would never be so bold. I couldn't ever fit her in my tiny little bag" she chuckled, smirking a bit at the girl's comments. Energetic, this one.

"I'm Mary, but you can call me May. Alastor brought me along, though he seems busy at the moment." she rolled her eyes a bit, sipping at her tea slightly before borrowing her own host's words. "I've been rather staying with him of recent. It's been quite the experience."

There was a tangible, vibrating awe that struck Velvet. Her whole face lit up like it _hurt_ , fists clenched to wave in her lap as her eyes immediately darted to where Valentino and Alastor were talking. "Oh-oh really? He did? Thats...oh my god. That's so... _so cute_!" Rosie put a hand on her knee, still smiling with a small flattery at the banter of being stolen.

Velvet was going to have a melt down. _Val. Val. Please look at me, come_ **here** Alastor brought a _date_. But Lucifer had them and she was floundering because she didn't even have her _phone_. "He uh, has good taste! You look amazing! Better than him actually but what do old men know. But oh my god, _staying_ with him? Are you steady? Exclusive? Is he cute in his pjs?"

Well that was unexpected. Seeing Velvet nearly lose her _mind_ in excitement over that simple admission had May blinking in quiet surprise. She could practically _feel_ the other girl's attention latch onto her as she was peppered with questions.

More than one made her arch a brow. _Steady? His pajamas?_ May couldn't help but chuckle. The truth would probably shatter the girl's mind. But she arranged her face into a soft smile and sipped her tea before answering.

"Thank you. Alastor insisted he be allowed to indulge me and he certainly didn't disappoint. And yes, staying. But a lady doesn't kiss and tell. Especially about her host's _pajamas_." she smirked. _Let her gnaw on that one for a bit_ she thought to herself, knowing it would undoubtedly only drive the other woman mad wanting to know more.

Her eyes glanced over to see Lucifer had now joined the deer and the pimp and she resisted a soft huff. She might just have to go extract him herself if he didn't manage to get away soon on his own.

The sound Velvet made was a barely contained squeal of envy and frustration. "Nooo~ if you've _kissed_ you _have_ to tell! Gods, I'm begging. I'm not ready for armageddon. Ma~ay...dont do that to me." 

Rosie promptly bit into her about appropriate questions, quietly chiding her while the doll listened with half an ear and gave May the biggest pleading eyes. Pretty as she was it _usually_ worked.

She didn't even give away that she saw Lucifer seperate the men and Alastor weave to collect himself a drink before heading their way. Valentino looked like he meant to collect _her_ , pausing with a curious frown because that would take him the same path. Something the king had just forbade.

May hardly was able to stop herself from giggling as Rosie lectured Velvet. Even so she reached over to the primly dressed woman and patted her wrist gently. "It's okay, Rosie, really. I've gotten the feeling that Alastor is breaking a lot of his usual, erm, habits lately. I'm sure Velvet is just as curious as anyone else here. She's just a bit more vocal about it."

Turning to smile at Velvet, she motioned her closer with a crooked finger, waiting until the other woman leaned in before speaking softly enough that the words wouldn't have traveled past their seats. A mischievous smirk curling her lips.

"He doesn't go in for _kissing_." she couldn't help the frankly devilish grin that crossed her face. Even if it was true, it would probably make Velvet about explode. It gave absolutely nothing but would undoubtedly send the girl's mind spinning in every way.

It certainly lit the young Overlord up with happy, girlish thoughts, her eyes only darting up behind May once before she turned aside. Kissing Rosie's cheek in a flurry goodbye she all but ran as ladylike as possible to her giant friend to tug him into a corner couch and _talk_.

When May leaned back a hand caught her throat kindly, settling under her jaw in a polite but possessive hold as Alastor watched Velvet flee and sipped his whiskey from behind the couch. "Making friends, my dear?" Tipping her back so he could grin down at her.

May couldn't help but chuckle as she watched Velvet bustle away, taking another sip of her tea as if she _hadn't_ just been driving the little gossip crazy. She'd had every intention to sip the drink quietly, leaning back comfortably against the couch.

But that sudden grasp with a familiar, gloved hand to her throat startled her into a soft gasp. Her cheeks flushed as he tipped her head back, pulse fluttering excitedly against his fingers as she adopted her best innocent expression. 

"A few." She laughed softly, smiling up at him. "Though I was afraid I was going to have to come pluck you from the spider's web soon."

Rubbing his thumb in circles on the pattering heartbeat he hummed, smiling softer in lieu of laughing. "Perhaps, but I enjoy watching him spin his yarns frantically. He's been after a partnership with me since the 50s~" Joining her on the couch he crooked that arm over the back, tracing his claws on the tender column of skin while raising his glass to Rosie.

"And pardon me as well, I didn't intend him to speak _that_ long. Thankfully ol'Lulu decided I should get back to finer company." Now he laughed, feeling exasperated serpent eyes on his back.

Despite her attempts at a straight face she couldn't help the way her eyes closed for just a moment as his thumb caressed her neck. It only kept that pulse beating and she was certain he damn well knew it.

"Mmm, persist thing, isn't he?" she smiled as he settled next to her. The feel of his claws tracing along her neck was sending shivers down her spine and she had to stop herself from leaning more fully into it. Instead she tried to take a drink of what was left of her tea, the cup shaking ever so subtly in her grasp as she tried to ignore how delightful those sudden, almost casual touches felt.

"Hmm, well, I thank him for that. As delightful as Miss Rosie and Velvet are, I seemed to be attracting attention from multiple corners once you'd wandered off."

"I did say you'd be all they could see!" He reminded with a quip, hardly bothered now that he was free. Not many of the goetic were interested in mindless chatter with him and he'd already locked eyes with the few that did to warn them off for now. No animosity but also no patience. He felt like an itch was under his skin, already tired of crowds.

Smoothly, with only an apologetic smile at May, Rosie brought up a question carefully tilted in french that Alastor answered. A short back and forth as she inquired his status with the three allied lords was still safe and he assured her until she was at ease. 

All the while he pet May, enjoying the subtle ways she melted into it without looking truly improper. In the end he gave her his own sly smile, "Pardon my french~" and chuckled as Rosie coughed on her tea.

She listened to the smooth conversation between the two of them, not understanding but enjoying the sound anyway. It let her simply enjoy those soft touches as she drank her tea, steadying herself as he was distracted with Rosie for a moment.

As he finished, she chuckled at the joke, giving his side a playful elbow. "Just this once, I guess," she smiled back just as playfully before shifting just long enough to place her now-empty teacup down before settling back again. "Thank you for the perfume as well. It was a lovely surprise earlier."

He froze for a moment, blinking at the seemingly random thanks. After a moment he decided it must have been from the room he'd gifted her, several other necessities there he often forgot about. Neither accepting or denying, what did it really matter, he slipped his arm behind her to tug her against his side with a smile. "Well, it suits you beautifully." 

Leaving his hand there, tapping carefully on the lower ribs of her side he had no choice but to mean that. It had an almost dizzying quality to it he was failing to go nose blind to. Drawing his attention back to it like an itch as he crossed a leg on his knee to jitter in high energy.

She blushed softly and smiled at his compliment, only to feel him tug her close against his side and keep her there. It was so natural and yet so strange that for a second she was confused by it. He hardly ever acted like this, certainly not in public. 

With his fingers tapping against her waist and his leg jittering she looked over at him curiously. Something was obviously affecting him. Sure he was energetic and nearly constantly in motion but this seemed different somehow. "Alastor? Something wrong? You seem like you're about to leap out of your skin."

Again his eyes darted to her, then the pinched look of similar worry on Rosie's face and he forcefully stilled himself with a plastic smile. "Quite alright, dear! Perhaps just a bit agitated by such _directness_ from such a man." He laughed it off, trying to downplay the actually building heat of discomfort in him. At least her presence was grounding, even if he _was_ getting tired of how she attracted eyes. At least it was understandable. In a low stage whisper he added, "Dont tell, but I'm not a fan of crowds. People are rather appalling en masse."

That at least soothed Rosie who turned her concern towards the stage as lights began to dim. It was show time and Lucifer himself was waiting for the theater to quiet.

Her own gaze didn't turn away quite so quickly as Rosie's. In fact it narrowed a bit, obviously suspicious he was hiding something. But the crowd below quieted in the dim theatre she looked down at the stage below curiously to see Lucifer standing in the spotlight. Nearly gleaming in his white suit.

Perhaps Alastor _was_ just antsy from dealing with Valentino, she decided. He had demonstrated a desire for touch while Husk patched him up. Maybe he was just starting to grow more comfortable with the idea.

Slipping one hand up, she moved her hair off her neck to gather it behind her shoulders again. The movements teased another fresh bit of that floral scent loose as she settled back again, completely unaware at how it was affecting him. Still unsure of how he'd feel if his touch was returned though, she folded her hands in her lap primly.

Lucifer needed no microphone as he greeted the audience with all the showmanship heaven had bestowed on him, welcoming them to another top of the decade and tonight's performance. It was cute and slightly bantering but Alastor felt his mind slipping to static as he _again_ felt the urge to turn his head and admire the curvy girl at his side. It was a struggle not to.

His mind whirled, eyes fuzzing as he balanced between looking outwardly unimpressed and focused on the feeling of her breathing against his side. It was distracting, _very < em> distracting. Maybe showing off what was _his_ was a poor idea around those he barely trusted enough to play civil. _

_It was all he could do to keep his eyes on the King as the man ducked aside after a promise of a good 'show' and the curtain rose for the first half. Lilith and her orchestra. There to entertain to her heart's, and the lucky sinners below, contentment with her haunting songs both melancholic and inspiring. Never a joyful one, that dam, but Alastor enjoyed it as it were. It reminded him of the pretty lullaby May had sung, and he slipped into more thinking of what else he could convince his girl to sing for him. Distracted and drumming his claws on that forsaken, distracting gown._

_May remained unaware of how Alastor's mind was slipping into overload as she got to experience the haunting beauty of Lilith's voice again. This time, though, as a member of the audience instead of spending it hiding in cramped corners to avoid ushers._

_She did her best to focus on the show but his distracted fiddling and tapping on her side finally grew too much to bear through. As much as she wanted to stay he seemed to need to get out of there, and the sooner the better._

_Leaning over so she could whisper into his ear, it brought her tightly against his side. "We can go home if you want to. I think everyone can safely say you made your appearance. No need to stay and be uncomfortable."_

_Alastor did not look at her. "No dear, I'm _fine < em>. And I rather look forward to the second half. So~" sweet mercy on his soul she smelled delicious. And not in a bloody way. _That_ was a thought he tried to brush off. "Don't worry for my sake, my May. Enjoy the show." __

__And if he held her in that tighter hold he was unaware, letting his eyes static out quietly and just tracing the brand of her outline against him with his mind and listening to the show from behind the veil._ _

__Unconvinced, she shifted against his side gently as that tight hold pulled her snug against him. But since he seemed insistent upon her getting to stay, she settled in, close enough to feel that inferno contained under his skin even through the layers of clothing._ _

__Eventually she closed her own eyes as well, simply enjoying the music filling the place from the stage below. Her body slowly relaxed against his, and finally, gently, her head sank against his shoulder._ _

__It wasn't often he had to summon his old habits of mastering self, not something that mattered much in his hellish occupations. But he did. Willing the progressively pervasive thoughts of truly more and more physical interest from his mind to carry through the show. Stopped trying to figure out _why_ because he was just going to have to sum it up to a weird stress or fluke. That was all. It would pass. _ _

__Lilith sang for nearly an hour, glowing in the praises she got and applause at the tasteful times indicated by her pauses. It never failed to captivate any audience and that had so little to do with her succubus charms. She was just that magnificent._ _

__By time Lucifer came out to rather amorously escort her from the stage Alastor was deeply invested in distracting himself with the anniversary show._ _

__"And now, my lovely denizens, Overlords and exulted Princes of hell, may we start this next decade with clean slates and cleaner streets." Behind him the curtain rose again, displaying the traitorous demons he had collected from whatever cells they had inhabited for duration over the time until their execution. Alastor shifted in his seat, drink long finished and resting his chin on the arm propped on the side of the couch. Watching avidly with absolutely _nothing_ like the fear the King wished to impress as Lucifer raised his cane and forces started to slowly and excruciatingly tear apart and torture the line up in a gorey and brutal display. By the spray alone he would be just as soaked red as Alastor was in his daily attire in little time at all._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who in their right mind enjoys Earl Grey?  
> Except everyone I seem to know and enjoy of course but sweet Hell, it's stewed sewerage folks.
> 
> Drink Coffee.


	7. Flavours of Madness

As the final notes of Lilith's concert finally passed and the applause started up, May finally stirred and sat back up. It felt like she'd been floating in that beautiful voice. With a faint smile and a soft chuckle she watched Lucifer shamelessly display his _deep_ affection for his wife before the succubus was escorted off.

The second portion of the show brought her back down though, seeing the lineup of demons on display. As the pack tore into them, artfully drawing out torture and pain with practiced longevity, she grimaced and looked away. She had no desire to see that after hearing such a gorgeous concert, even if she'd dealt with similar herself. 

With a glance over, she saw Alastor watching with what appeared to be intense interest. From the sounds of it, this part would be lasting at least a bit. "I'll be right back. I think I need some air." she murmured softly to him before gently extricating herself from his side so she could step out into the hall, even that faint movement eddying that scent subtly about her.

He didn't want to let her go, barely sparing a surprise at the thought before he nodded. "Don't be long, you'll insult his Majesty." A quiet, distracted murmur as that errant thought caught in his throat and heated his blood further. Maybe a second or two to breath would be a good idea.

Honestly as long as she didn't break into tears he understood her revulsion. Half of the lower crowd was whimpering and sniffling, first hand witnesses who had bought the privilege to be the source of gossip of what happened if you stirred Lucifer's ire. Few sinners wanted _that_ fate, and most often it was dealt by the impassively watching nobles on deck.

With a nod, she slipped away and stepped out into the cooler hall for a few minutes. The thick curtains didn't cut off the sound entirely but it muffled the majority of it enough to let her get a few breaths in. And with her gone it gave that perfumed scent a chance to disperse away from him as well.

Once she felt a bit more stable, she took one last breath and slipped back into the lounge area. Doing her best not to wince at the sounds heard so clearly once again, she found her way back to Alastor's side. As much as she could she avoided looking at the stage below as she settled next to him, surrounding him in a fresh wave of that sweet scent.

Her fingers fidgeted slightly with her gown, her bag. Doing anything to avoid looking down at the gory scene below. At least some of the worst screams were dying out, though the thought of why made her shudder slightly.

Nothing would make him admit his side felt cool and exposed when she left, something he buried under a visceral enjoyment of watching the doomed be reduced to unrecognizable meat. Lucifer had a perfected skill in making a spectacle of execution and Alastor adored it to his very core, not able to keep the soft whine out of his throat as he watched with black eyed _hunger_. Rosie had always been nice enough not to mock him in those moments of rabid fanworship. 

But when May hit him _again_ with a wave of foreign _want_ he felt something crack. Or maybe he heard it from between his ears because he saw Rosie jump, eyes on his antlers and knew he might, possibly, be losing grip of something. "May...do you want to go now..." Very carefully from between his teeth, looking askance at her and quite abruptly unable to look back away. Swimming in the color of her dress and the scent and her stubbornly sweet attempt to be strong and obedient.

That audible crack drew her eyes immediately upward, those blue pools widening in surprise at the sudden appearance of that full spread. As she heard that strained voice her eyes drifted down to meet his own and she felt her heart seize. It reminded her of the burning, _hungry_ look she'd given him through his shade only so recently.

She had the presence of mind to shoot Rosie an apologetic look as she plucked her bag from her lap, hoping the other woman would read the farewell there and not press for a formal goodbye. Alastor, whatever his struggle, was obviously losing against it and he needed to get out of there _now_. She wasn't sure he had the control just now to shadow them back home but maybe some fresh air would help.

"Let's go. Come on..." she murmured quietly as she rose, reaching for his hand to gently guide him from the room. As she shifted forward, the slit in her skirts flashed a momentary vision of her pale thigh below before closing around her leg again with the faint glimmer of those blood-red jewels.

Alastor didn't exactly let himself be led, longer stride catching up and more urgently getting _out_ of that room. Ignoring what others saw, or thought, and not even looking at Rosie. The best he did was hold a walking pace instead of just _fleeing_. It felt like he couldn't breathe, no matter that he knew he was. Every thought was swimming through a focus on May that made his skin crawl and itch and worst of all _burn_.

Out in the hall the dark muttering static was audible, popping like a shorting wire when he tugged her to a stop. Eyes stuck on her and mind repeatedly running into a wall of haze when he tried to back up and _think_. He didn't want to think, he wanted to go home, and he said as much lowly - tugging her to him with an arm around her waist. Without really thinking about it he got them there, dropped in the hall between their personal doors where he leaned her between himself and the wall to bury his face in her hair. Gouging the wall horribly with his antlers.

Her own strides had to be much faster to match his, utterly confused by his sudden flip from enjoying the scene below to wanting to practically run from the gathering.

Tugged to a stop, she gazed at him in utter confusion. What was happening to him? He'd hardly ever stared at her, and certainly never like _that_. The dark static popping around her raised the hairs on her neck, the sound disturbing in some deep way.

"Alastor?" was all she managed to ask quietly before he pulled her against him again and flashed them home. The sound of his fully flared antlers dragging against the once-pristine wall reached her ears as he buried himself in her hair, the heat of him surrounding her, his sheer closeness making her heart race.

But it wasn't him. Was it? Had he changed so rapidly? Her mind couldn't accept the idea and she reached up, hesitating only a moment before pressing against his shoulders. "Alastor... Alastor, stop. What's gotten into you?" she was trying to press him back, to catch her breath but _gods_ she didn't want to. Even so she softly voiced those words, trying to break him out of the feral-seeming haze he'd sunk into.

His name made him rumble low in his chest, catching his ear over the protest of plaster when his forehead dropped to her shoulder, both hands finding her upper arms and just pinning her there as he tried to find her an answer. It felt like he was inhaling fire, felt like- well he knew _exactly_ how he felt but explaining any rational reason why felt impossible. 

"Miss May. When I know...I will tell you. But right now..." Sliding his hands to the wall he stepped back without moving his face, giving her space to duck away if she truly tried. "Pick a room, and _run_. Before I make that choice for you." His voice warbled and whined, vibrating in his own skin, but he couldn't dedicate to caring why. Instinct was drowning out his usual reticence and manners but he was _him_ and he'd heard _stop_.

Feeling his hands gripping her arms, she let out a whimper. But not one of fear. It was one of conflicted desire. Her heart was racing at this sudden hunger out of him, and she _loved it_. Feeling his forehead settle to her shoulder only intensified it as well, and she could feel her entire body trembling as she fought that battle against her own flaring instinct.

As he gave her that space, she swallowed, throat suddenly dry under her softly panted breaths. Feeling the wall behind her as she tried to get her mind to _work dammit_ and stop finding itself picturing increasingly-- _stop it_. She had to think. But it was a rapidly failing ability, it seemed, in both of them.

Even as she shook from pure adrenaline and a growing, deep hunger for _more_ of that, she grasped his wrist. Slipping out from under his arm she pulled him onward, toward that red door and his chambers within. She simply couldn't trust her legs to run. Hell, she could hardly _walk_ at this point.

As he followed his shadows _fled_ , sensing their master's discordant mind and leaving his sitting room unnaturally bright but he didn't permit her to stop there, the two walking in a strange tandem of who took who through to his bedroom. But it was definitely him that closed it behind them, flicking his wrist to send a bolt of fire to the fireplace so that something besides his beacon eyes lit the dark room. Not that he needed it but he _wanted_ it. 

"I remember saying I wouldn't ruin that dress..." Breathing carefully kept him understandable, feeling his tone try to shift, "Going to prove me wrong?"

Her heart was absolutely pounding by the time he'd closed the door behind him, hardly even having noticed the distinct _lack_ of shadows in his outer room. The glow of his eyes in that momentary darkness sent a squirm down her spine, the last vestiges of her conscious mind still trying to warn her of the predator lurking there.

His tone sent a thrill through her, part desire for that feral hunger that was starting to pound deep within her, and partially that flash of innocence that died away as her fingers lifted to the back of her dress.

"It would be a shame to ruin this one" she answered in her own struggling voice. Trying so hard to stay present but wanting to succumb to whatever tension was working through every one of her muscles. Her shaking fingers tried and failed to undo the delicate zipper that ran the length of her spine and she let out a frustrated huff before turning her back to him, gathering her hair over one shoulder. "Would you mind terribly?"

Alastor dimly thought it was surreal watching himself tug off his gloves with a careless toss, claws finding those fastenings with a delicate dexterity not normally suited to the act. It felt odd to see his hands shake, even if it was only adrenaline and restraint. It kept playing in his head that he could, might, wanted to, was _afraid_ of how easily he could break her.

Peeling the zipper down was a fascinating removal of parting crimson to see cream colored skin. What few wounds still blemished her skin making his teeth grit. A stern reminder that Oh yes, he would hurt her. He was too sharp not to. 

He pushed the folds of expensive fabric off her, letting it puddle with her half voiced permission and took a second to step back and look at her, trailing one claw down the line he had cut into her days prior.

Her teeth found her lip as she felt that zipper slip down, the sheer act of it so familiar yet so completely different from the last time. And yet the thrill of the gown falling from her frame was so _right_. The fire warmed her bare flesh and caught the handle of that sheathed knife still strapped tightly to her thigh

Feeling that claw trace down that scar on her back she arched, gasping softly and letting out a murmured sound of pleasure. "Alastor..." she breathed, eyes fluttering closed as she shivered in front of him, clad only now in her panties and heels. She no longer cared how strange of a change it was in him. It was what she _wanted_. And from all appearances he wanted it, too, the very thought making her heart pound.

The tiniest bit of his usual mischief returned, the only hint he was feeling any nerves at all, when he grabbed her waist to pull her back against him. Needing her cool skin nearer because he was burning. Bending to her ear, he looked direct at her face in fake modesty. "Picked up the chant so soon? You haven't even turned around." And he wasn't letting her, pressing his smile to her jaw while both thumbs neatly sliced that tiny bit of fabric at both sides. For whatever reason he enjoyed the idea of not disarming her. Spreading his hands he traced hip bones and thighs, aware of where his hands were and how delicate the line he skirted around, dragging out what confirmation he needed to soothe his last nerve because she was always so damn pliant.

A shuddering breath escaped her as he pulled her back against his lithe form, her frame pressing tightly back to his. Wanting him closer, wanting to feel that burn over every inch of her. Even so her cheeks flushed brightly at his tease, somehow finding the voice to return one of her own as she slid her fingers over his hands, so strangely bare now. "Mmm. Would you prefer my Lord instead?"

The words were practically purred out of her, breathing more heavily as he pressed his grin against her jaw--so close to one of those locations of that scent that had driven him to such unusual desire. 

Biting her lip as he sliced that last scrap of fabric away, one of her hands slid up, cupping around the back of his neck and curling into his hair in a gentle grip. The other rested atop his as those fingers explored so delicately over her skin. Her heart was pounding hard enough she was certain he would feel it, eyes slipping closed as she shivered in delight at the slow exploration.

Maybe if he'd known better he wouldn't have done it but between soft skin under his hands and her light pull in his hair all he wanted was something to take the itch off his teeth. The urge to bite and rend, to taste her as much as he scented her interest in ways that didn't disgust him at all in this haze. Licking her from throat to jaw he felt the tingle in his spine that her teasing words caused go electric and he wasn't ashamed _at all_ to grind her back into himself, suddenly aware and glad and _frustrated_ that he was fully dressed in this heat. A low groan crackled like a taser in his exhale. "That is...yes." 

Then he flipped her around, lifting with a sharp hand to one thigh and knocking her clear out of her shoes to get her to _his_ height for a snarling kiss he needed, right now, with more ferocity than he knew he had without just eating her face. Fisting hair and holding her there with only a small thought that he knew where the bed was and took the steps to get there.

A soft moan escaped her as he ground her back against him, shuddering at the feel of his tongue against her neck. But that groan, oh, that sent a thrill through her very core that _she_ had caused that.

And then she was hoisted bodily, earning him a soft yelp of pure surprise as she found herself suddenly face-to-face with him. Feeling his claws prickling at her thigh she squirmed softly as he enveloped her in that hunger. The tight fist in her hair earned a soft delighted moan against the sudden kiss, her own fingers tracing back along his neck and jaw to bury themselves in his hair as he stepped his way to the bed. 

Uncaring of anything else she hooked one leg over his hip, tightening it to help hold herself against him as her fingers ran through his hair, claws delicately scratching over the scalp below. Just before he reached the edge of the bed she pulled away from the kiss just enough to allow herself to speak in a breathless tone. "Whatever you want. Do it. Take me, mark me, bleed me. Whatever you want. I'm yours."

Her weight was nothing more than a reminder she was breakable and small, wrapped around him so easily it didn't hinder him from climbing on his knees to the mattress. A low growl answered her, biting at her lips until the taste of her was covered in blood and he was sound minded enough to prefer it that way. 

Her body shivered against his as he drew that blood, the copper taste teasing at her own tongue as she twisted her fingers more tightly into his hair for a moment as he settled her into the bed.

Releasing her hair to pin her by the throat instead, her shoulders down as he hissed for air Alastor couldn't help the satisfied lick of her blood from his teeth. "Yes you are." Weight on her throat he rolled their hips together before snarling and snapping his jacket and vest _anywhere_ else just to relieve some layers. "Damn right, _~~you're mine~~_." 

He didn't want to _suffocate_ her, pulling his claws down to settle over her heart when his eyes started to wander her. Nothing would move his hand from her hip, claws digging until they felt wet with blood as he held onto his sanity by the friction he found between them.

The pressure on her throat drew one hand to his wrist, gasping for air under that pressure as he rolled his hips. Her own lifted in response, his corrupted darling responding with complete instinct even as her claws dug into his wrist until those fingers released her throat. That slip into that feral tone only drove her further into that heated state and she shuddered.

A momentary cry escaped her as his claws dug into her hip, squirming under him in reaction to the pain even as her heart pounded desperately under his claws. But that cry only deepened into a near growl of desire as she reached out to fist her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, catching that perfect tie in her grasp as she pulled him closer to growl the words into his ear. "Make me yours, Alastor. Claim me, my _Lord_." Her desires spoken, she lunged in, teeth finding his neck in a lustful bite.

Whether she was baiting him or not it worked. Alastor answered her words with a savage snarl, lurching under his own thrill and her unexpected pull to whine threateningly when she bit him. It burned and hurt and was perfect, claws raking her chest as he snapped both in control and a bear trap warning beside her ear. A rather empty one given he did nothing to correct her.

No matter that she was naked he couldn't bear the thought of doing the same, not baring his skin or distracting her with scars and wounds, but there was no backing down in him. Pushing _hard_ on her chest he tore his neck free, uncaring about the snag of teeth and flipped her harshly onto her face by that unforgiving grip on her hip. It gave him an interesting view of curves and scars as he flicked open his slacks, tossing his belt and hissing as pressure was alleviated just to make his focus more strained. 

Bowing over her Alastor pulled her up again by her throat, bloody fingers pulling her against his shoulder to smash her spine to his chest. He couldn't stop his deep rumble, feeling it shake the body under his and grinding his ridge along the crease of her body as he held her up against him in a cage of his larger frame.

That snap of fangs made her shiver as he reminded her of exactly what he _could_ do if he wanted. As he pulled free of her teeth, she felt his grip tighten on her hip before she was flipped suddenly, hissing a breath in through her teeth at the throb he left from the dig of his bloodied claws. Her fingers curled tightly into the blankets below her as she heard that belt pull free, her free hand brushing the hair from her vision as he loomed over her. The fading marks of him on her back clearly visible as he caged her in below.

Feeling his fingers wrap around her throat, she shivered and closed her eyes. The pull forced her into an arch, letting out a shuddering breath as he ground against her. Her entire body _ached_ , lit in desire as she writhed below him, begging him for more as she breathed out his name, completely caught up in the moment and the desire for every sensation he visited upon her be it pain or pleasure.

He hated touching himself and he _wouldn't_ touch her, letting nature do it's part to align them hands free like the animal he was under his skin. Only the smallest bit of attention went to the act that he positioned her as best not to harm her. It didn't warn either of them for the roughness burning in his blood when he hilted himself in a single harsh move, snarling as it immediately promised to make the heat bearable if he only drove his frustrations into _her_ and that blanked his thoughts from anything gentle. 

His fangs snapped into her neck, misaligned with her healing bite and all but mounting her with a claw pressed to her belly and his strength alone keeping from smashing her face into the blankets. Not kind, not sweetly, the buck _rutted_ the poor girl through satisfied and bloody growls and a fevered need to hear her shriek under him that made his jaw ache. Pinning her down so she couldn't see the ridge of fur down his spine raise, the tail he hid standing tall and primal as he bedded her bloody with only enough care to not rip her apart.

Her voice filled that room in a pained yet eager cry as he took her in a single stroke, throat vibrating under his fingers. It hurt but it was so _good_ , her hips pressing back as her depths clenched around the invasion she'd never truly expected.

And then he was gone, lost in that feral, instinctive need as he claimed his prey in a completely new way. Her arms braced against those nearly painful thrusts, trapped against him under the press of his fingers against her belly and those teeth digging into her neck, that sweet copper taste finding his tongue again as her flesh was punctured. Her fingers gripped tight enough at the bedding below to punch through, digging her claws into her own palms as he growled against her neck. 

Each hard buck of his hips earned him a fresh cry of pain-soaked pleasure, knowing she wouldn't last long against this feral treatment. Indeed her cries started growing more pleasured as she gasped for each ragged breath. Already so close to that singular, base pleasure. Somehow she knew it was only the barest control keeping him from utterly breaking her, and that thought alone threatened to tip her headlong into the release her body was begging for.

Being drug down to pure sensation was a new thrill that he had no mental defenses for, every thought a focus on the feel of her and himself and the sounds. The delightful high of blood and her absolute intrinsic attention on him as he unraveled her on pure instinct. 

His own spiral came with the subtle static of a tightening spring, snarling and biting deep enough to feel her delicate collar bone when it snapped and the chill of relief shot down his spine at a strength he never found on his own. Barely breaking his pace in a greed to take what he could ride of the pleasure pulling the heat from his blood only enough to register he _could_ breathe and shakily panting against her throat when he stilled to lazy motions. A questing hand confirming he had not disemboweled her in his high. He found blood, it was all he could smell or taste, and it urged him to release her carefully to lay as she chose with a still present purr in his chest. Oddly hazing in the wake of mind shattering static that was both familiar and foreign in pitch.

The feel of his teeth digging deep enough to hit bone earned him that shriek he'd been wanting even as she pitched into that intoxicating climax with a faint burst of static that tingled through them both. All she could feel was her body shuddering against his and that firey pain in her neck as some unknown fragment of her mind coaxed his name from her lips--it felt like someone else the way her mind was so unraveled. 

For a moment nothing mattered, simply reveling in the purely animalistic pleasure before she shuddered at the feel of his hot breath against her neck. Slowly she became aware of the new pains and aches she'd earned, fresh scratches across her belly and that slow unclenching of what felt like every single muscle after the incredible high.

Feeling him release her, she sank shakily to the bed, resting a moment as she reoriented back to reality. After she felt slightly more aware she rolled partially to her side below him, flushing as she reached up to touch the fresh, ragged wound on her neck with a hazy smile. 

Pulling her fingers away she let out a breath at the glistens of blood on her fingertips before she fully sat up, giving him the courtesy of not looking at his exposed flesh as he came back to himself. That didn't stop her, though, from reaching up to smooth the mussed hair from his eyes gently with a delicate touch.

May's touch made him flinch, blinking a glassy look from his eyes and darting to hers. He'd lost time, unaware he'd been staring and surprised by her tending him. Loosely fixing his clothes to rights, something that made him grimace tightly at the pull on his tail and mess he felt, he finally allowed himself to lay beside her without stopping her from whatever grooming she chose.

For once he couldn't find words. It was just sound and urge and primal drives in his mind through the burn that was less but not gone. Eyes sliding near shut, glow dimmed, he traced up her arm with claws to tap at her knuckles without any real reason. Just feeling her touch him, watching her watch him, and trying to catch enough air to find the will for movement. "You look nice in red." A mumble, absentminded and rough from growling.

Suddenly chilled after the heat of him was no longer pressed against her, she wrapped her body loosely in the nearest blanket as he fixed himself. A passing thought that it might make him more comfortable now that they were coming back down. Even so she settled next to him when he laid down, tracing her fingers along his chest as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. Simply enjoying the quiet closeness after so much energy and delightful tension.

A smile crossed her lips as he caressed her arm and tapped at her knuckles softly, her hand twisting to catch his claws between her fingers as she let him process. Her cheeks flushed at his soft words, even though she was unable to stop from laughing softly at the first full sentence he'd said since this all unraveled between them.

"Thank you, my Lord," she chuckled, squeezing his fingers softly before releasing them and sitting up in case he was growing weary of that touch. "You look good with a full rack, too." She couldn't resist the gentle tease, reaching out to run her fingers idly along those smooth, polished tines. 

He didn't mind those small touches but contact on his antlers made him shudder. Too tired to govern himself against an arch and pleased rumble. Eyes shut, he relaxed into it with a crooked grin fully fueled by her new title for him. 

"Mm. You're lucky I don't want to move or that would be quite the attention getter." Reaching blindly he snagged her again, pulling her shoulders and head to his chest. It felt better that way, having the female he'd just lost his head over against him and where he could reach her. Whatever was in his blood still howled not to have her out of his sight and this soothed that. Being touched soothed it. 

Idly he felt down her side, finding the blanket and running atop it to her hip. "Did I leave you in one piece or would a time out be in order." Said with a double meaning, a favorite phrase of his he wasn't sure she knew, but he really wasn't sure what he'd done to her. A distant part of his mind aware he couldn't recall the last time he bedded a woman.

Pulled back to his chest, she happily settled back against him, enjoying the warmth of him against her again. Her fingers returned to his chest as he ran his down her side, closing her eyes at the soft touch as she caressed him gently.

"I'll feel it for a little while, but I'm fine. Though my neck might never be quite free of those marks." she chuckled softly, but smiling at his concern after such a feral rutting. "Not that I mind it. I've always enjoyed a good bite" she reassured him, even though he probably had already figured that out for himself.

"Mm. Pardons then." He sighed, only half apologizing for his admittedly rough handling of her. He still didn't know what had come over him, or why, but besides a lingering disgust at his control and the after mess, he supposed it was no foul play as pleased as she sounded. Only his internal awkwardness was anything to note. 

"If anyone cares I chewed you I'll eat them before the words drop." Pitched like a joke but he was so damn serious, whatever drive was left hyper possessive in this moment. She was small and his and smelled divine under the blood and _him_ and he'd fight Lucifer himself over it. Hand in her hair he made the unspoken request for her to stay put, even feeling himself drift as that onrushing had exhausted what stores he had. He was aching again. Too tired to fight the urge to nap.

A small smile of pride crossed her face at those protective, _possessive_ words even as her fingers curled to gently grip at his shirt for a moment. As his fingers buried themselves in her hair again, she shivered gently against him.

"Mmm. Better warn Husk then" she laughed softly, remembering the way he'd spat that accusation at Alastor only so recently.

Her fingers resumed that soft caressing, smoothing over the fine fabric of his shirt and the warmth of him below as he drifted. Between the exertion, the comfortable warmth, and the steady breathing next to her she soon found herself drifting off as well, cheek pillowed against his shoulder as she cuddled up against his side quite contentedly.

It was a biological battle between his usual inability to sleep and his body's desire for rest that actually pulled him under until the middle hours of early morning. Laying against someone was just too odd and frankly disturbing to sleep any further once his need for a regenerative rest has subsided. And when he immediately thought of an absolutely crass way to wake her, before his eyes were even focused, Alastor was quick to extract himself and calmly _flee like hell_ to his shower. 

Carefully giving his state no mind or looking in the mirror he was only too happy to scald a few layers of flesh off, aggravating stitches and burns alike with something like masochistic determination to banish whatever thoughts his body had picked up on it's own. At the edges of his sanity was a very real, very pressing panic at his loss of control and rationality, disgust second guessing every ounce of autonomy he held. Picking up a jaunty, boisterous tune to rid himself of the lingering worry he _had_ lost his wits and indulge in over the top grooming until his mind settled.

His jaunty tune and the sound of his shower finally pulled her from sleep. It wasn't until she untangled herself from the blanket and stretched that she winced. She apparently was feeling the residual aches more than expected. But a shower would help ease that. 

Leaving the blanket that surely smelled so thoroughly of _her_ on his bed, she slid back into that gown that had been discarded last night, blushing brightly at the now-ruined underthings as she gathered them and her heels.

Her own shower was much less aggressive than his, delicately cleaning the newest wounds she'd gathered and making sure any remnants of dried blood or smudged makeup from the night before were taken care of.

It wasn't until after she'd dressed herself that she heard a ping from the phone she'd forgotten about for over a week now. Plucking it from her nightstand she sighed, starting to work through the backlog of updates she'd missed out on since her arrival here and reassuring a handful of other Sinners that yes, she was fine and she'd tell more when she could.

It momentarily felt cruel how relieved he was that she was gone when he returned to his room dressed for staying home but dry and clean and _sane_. Debating for a moment of just staying put in his own sitting room hunger won over reticence and he eventually went downstairs to rustle for food, using the volume of music to drown out where she was and making a halfway statement that he was in his own thoughts and happily alone. Even if he only made something simple it was better than simply drinking his confusion away like he was tempted.

Upstairs she heard the music but didn't feel like braving the stairs just yet, not with the aches she was working loose. Instead she sank herself into a rare indulgence in her phone, scrolling through the social media updates of the last few days. A lot of buzz filtering out about Lucifer and Lilith's show, mainly. 

One of her friends who was obsessed with the lives of upper class had even tagged her in a post about the infamous Radio Demon being seen more than once recently in the presence of a _lady_ , and more than once! No one had been brave or lucky enough for a clear shot of the two of them yet though. Something about a landlord found literally pulped by an unknown attacker.

Chuckling to herself, she scrolled on until she saw a video she knew she shouldn't watch. Just from the blurred thumbnail she could make out the boxy face of Vox and a blur of red that was all too familiar. But part of her wanted to know what he'd undergone to return in such bad shape.

She didn't know how she made it through the footage but even as shaky as it was she could clearly see the mad arcs of electricity searing through him, shadows barely visible in the dark shredding technology as the two Overlords waged their war. It was only after that she shut off her phone, torn between frustration that he would risk himself like that and relief that he had come home at _all_. Despite her hunger she laid back, wincing a bit, just trying to sort out everything that had happened in such a short period.

Her absence was felt but dismissed with a stern thought that she was welcome to her own day, the Overlord leaving only a few simple things out under a cover that wouldn't spoil in case she needed a snack later. A small courtesy he thought more than made up for whatever aches she had. 

Honestly he felt much better this morning, the first day he fully felt back to himself after his little scuffle and that reminded him of a few 'chores' to go do. It led him to one of the odd ground floor doors, one locked with a constant glowing veve that gave no mistake it was meant to be sealed, and down he went to check on his own pets and wayward friends. Maybe because Lucifer reminded him of their captivity, or maybe just to tease the starving and lonely souls, but a polite check in on their state was due every so often and wouldn't take him that long, more than enough time to look in on May when he was done.

Her hunger finally demanded she stop picking apart the last... How long had it been again? It seemed like so much longer than whatever it had actually been. To go from nearly-nameless prey of the Radio Demon to attending a high-society event and--she shivered a bit as she touched that fresh wound on her neck--the events of last night. 

But again her body demanded food, so she hauled herself up and headed downstairs. It took a bit with her lingering aches to maneuver the stairs, but she finally found the food he'd left her. Smiling at the thoughtful gesture, even if he had seemed to make himself scarce, she slid onto one of the stools, enjoying the simple meal. She thought she heard some unusual noises, but then in this house what was truly considered strange? And they weren't loud enough to track down anyway.

Figuring he would show himself when desired, she cleaned up and returned to her room. Leaving the door open, she settled into her rocking chair and started up the book Husk had rescued from her lap the other day.

By time Alastor parted from his admittedly distracted enjoyments downstairs it was nearer lunch than he expected but his mood was much improved. Trotting through the house with his ears on a swivel for May he ignored the faint wicking of blood on his sleeves and hummed along with his favorite instrumental tune. No matter it had been on repeat for hours now.

Even with his loud presence he ducked his head into her room with a faintly warning "hello!" before actually invading her space to lean over her shoulder and see what it was she was reading into. "Had a pleasant morning, my dear?"

He'd caught her mid-page, focusing intently on the text even as one claw traced designs in the air as she studied over the material he'd gifted her. Deep in concentration, she wasn't even aware he'd appeared in the doorway, her lower lip caught in her teeth as she focused.

It wasn't until he voiced that greeting that she looked up, smiling softly as he edged in behind her to see what she'd been studying. It appeared to be a chapter on the basic ideas of transference of energy in spells. Granted something she knew a little about, but not to this level, and certainly not in any magical sense.

"Pleasant enough. Thank you for the meal you left me. It was just what I needed." She marked her place and put the book aside, stretching a bit after having sat for so long. "I finally checked my phone earlier. Seems you're the center of the rumor mills of late. Apparently courting some lady." She smirked playfully.

Her update raised his brows, grin turning playful in mirror tone as he draped himself over her shoulders to gesture ahead of her. "Oh I'm certain. Likely a long list of wagers and gossip, some shallow dams playing off on the lie that it may be _them_ in the spotlight and so _many_ guesses how long the gal will last. Why, if sinners were so bold I'd expect someone to come sneak a peek at my door. Such outrage, the company I keep!" The busybody nature of bored immortals always amused him, even when it bordered on rude. 

The thought struck him though, eyes wandering to her few photos of friends and outings. A phone. She had contacts. Did that mean she wanted to see them? "Any urgently concerned acquaintances of yours searching for you? I highly doubt they'd think to look here."

She leaned back in her seat as he draped himself over her, quietly noticing the blood that had marked his sleeves but dismissing it for the moment. The laughter escaped her easily at his playful sniping. If only the gossipers knew the truth.

She glanced up at him as he seemed to pause, catching his eyes drifting over her photos. "They were a little worried, and apparently one of them had tried to check on my apartment but the landlord wouldn't help them. I think that was during my, er, revival period." She chuckled softly. "I'm sure they'd love to see me, especially now that they know I'm not dead somewhere."

Closing his arms around her he finger tapped a tune on himself, thoughtful before he nodded. "Well I _did_ refit your phone. You could always go see them in the flesh to assure them of your continued prosperity. I trust you know how to keep my privacy." Effectively removing himself from the equation. It was easy to assume she'd enjoy the freedom and no friends of the same girl who quaked on meeting him would feel at ease if he tagged along.

And Hell knew he couldn't behave if he saw an opportunity to poke a raw nerve. 

"What a delight your old keeper was. I wonder if anyone came calling to worry for _him_. Not likely." Giving a haughty sniff he extracted himself with a stretch of his own, tired of the stiffness of stitches already.

She lifted her fingers to his arm, touching gently as he pondered a moment, feeling the muscles shift under his skin as he tapped out that quiet tune. The idea of going out on her own suddenly seemed so foreign, yet the prospect of seeing her friends was also exciting.

The memory of that bloody scene still made her shudder ever so slightly in his arms before he pulled away. But she still let out a soft laugh at his words. "One can only hope it was my neighbor. The one who always watched Killjoy as loud as possible."

Rising from her seat, she stretched a bit herself before brushing her clothing back into order. "I meant to ask about that, actually. What was the new tech in there for? Is it just to find me easier if I need you?"

Sharing her chuckle he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms to listen to her query before deciding to share at least a bit of it with her. No point making her paranoid. "Its an AM translator. Yes, I could find you easier but it also means you can call me directly and I can do the same." Summoning his microphone with a twirl he held it to his face and clearly spoke into it although no sound was made. Instead his voice came through the radio on her table.《Much like this. As I do not often use such a device.》

Setting it back to his side he gave her a wide smile. "My contact isnt traditional, but your phone can connect when you need. _If_ you need."

As he summoned that microphone she couldn't help but smile at that constant stream of showmanship out of him. The odd display of his voice sounding from across the room certainly earned him an impressed expression. "Huh. Fascinating. I won't pretend to know how it works, but, I like knowing you'll only be a call away if I need you." She smiled.

"But, not today I don't think. Unless you really want the house to yourself to enjoy the bachelor life for a while without a woman mucking about the place."

Shaking his head in quick denial, Alastor laughed at her small barb. "Oh no, dear. If I allow you to stay then you're welcome whenever you choose. I've had decades to be alone, and maybe habits die hard but I enjoy a bit of life here and there." Briefly his eyes dropped to the partially visible wounds on her, recollecting the strange enjoyment he'd had before shaking free of the thought. 

"But yes, another day then. If I need you I'd collect you but any of your free time is yours to enjoy." Refusing to examine those still foreign thoughts, feeling them fit in his mind like a misshapen cog.

Her eyes caught his gaze taking in that fresh bite mark on her neck and she blushed softly, lifting her fingers to brush it a moment under the pretext of moving her hair back over her shoulder. 

"Well, since it seems we both might have a quieter day in mind, what would you say to a bit of lunch? Maybe you can tell me a little about why you wanted me to have these" she indicated the partially-read book on her table, one of the occult texts he'd purchased her from that unique little shop.

"I am glad to hear you enjoy me around though. I always worry a bit I'm somehow throwing a wrench in your style." She smiled softly, quietly relieved.

"I am _always_ up for lunch." Eyes closed and chuckling, pretending not to see her reactions. "And of course I can, and we'll just see what sticks in those quick wits of yours." Giving her a hand up, purely reflex of habit, the demon couldn't help but scoff kindly.

"Enjoying you doesn't mean you didn't throw something into my routine. It just wasn't a wrench!" Turning to go back downstairs it was a stage whisper that added, "Maybe a hammer?" almost like a private joke, because _he_ found it hilariously concerning.

She happily took the hand up, always getting such a thrill from that charming way of his as she rose from that old chair with a soft creak of wood. 

But his words, delivered in that overly-dramatic way as they worked towards the stairs, drew a soft laugh from her. "I guess better a hammer than a knife?" She smirked, picking her way down the stairs with a minimum of wincing from the aches. Now that she'd been up and moving a bit it wasn't as bad. Just the subtle reminders of how hardy she was despite how frail she may have looked to an observer.

The scathing look he gave her was playfully challenging, taking insult on the knife's behalf. "Better a knife than an axe, my dear. I _never_ turn down a nice blade." Watching her from the corner of his eye he could barely tell she was less energetic than normal, at least assured she had slept off her eventful day well. 

"So! Are you cooking or am I forcing you into my odd cuisine again?" Regardless he was making himself coffee, ears pitched to her as he went through the motions without thought.

"Mmm. I say you cook." She responded as they wound their way to the kitchen. "It always seems to make you so happy. And I don't find your cuisine _odd_. I love it!" She protested with obvious good-natured humor.

"Besides, I can listen better when I'm not focused on cooking a meal." She shrugged a bit. That part, at least, was a plain truth.

No argument in him there! "Say Muffuletta five times and tell me my people didn't get odd on purpose." He snickered because that was exactly what he was going to make her. Waiting on his coffee the thought hit him with a small 'oh' and he snapped a few boxes of the teas she had requested to the kitchen island by the stool she often took. "Before I forget. There is your recreational herbs." 

It had been a while since he discussed basic magick, tapping his foot and staring at the pot while he debated relevance and import.

That certainly earned him a laugh. "Okay okay you have a point there. But at least you aren't eating pickled fish that smells like it should have been thrown out about two months ago."

As the teas appeared she clapped happily before picking them up to examine the boxes. "Thank you! These are just perfect." Using a claw to pop one open she inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell of it before she realized. "Oh! I never did see a kettle! You _do_ have one right?" She chuckled. She was certain he did but one simply couldn't pass up the chance to poke at him a bit.

A look of deep suffering answered her, one hand extending with the summoned item hanging from a claw as precariously as possible. Like the device was as torturous as the beverage. "Can't be said I have less than a stocked kitchen, but you'll brew it yourself. I shan't be a part of your sacrilegious rituals." 

A mischievous smirk answered his absolute suffering as she blew him a teasing kiss from her fingertips. "Thank you, darling. I shall endeavor to find a way to endure my sacrilege alone." Plucking the kettle from his claw with a smile, she filled it at the sink before putting it on a back burner on the stove to come to a boil.

Drinking directly from the pot - because really wasn't it just a large mug if he wasn't sharing? - Alastor pulled a great many meats and sealed jars from the ice box, humming as he made his pile on the counter. "Did you have questions about magick then?"

Leaning back against the counter near the stove, she crossed her ankles, braced up by the cabinets behind her as she thought. "More just curious why that attracted you as something you wanted me to have." She paused a moment, mulling a thought about in her head as she tried to figure out how to word it best. Claws tapping on the underside of the counter's edge as she thought.

"Is it that you're wanting to teach me something of it?" She finally asked, her head tilting curiously to one side as she watched him.

Eyes trained on his task, blindly reaching past her for a large chopping cleaver, his ears showed his attention as he hummed to his static. "Well, it may surprise you but this house is steeped in magic. Practically crafted from the ground up!" Slicing slabs of meat into extra fine slivers with a beat to his motions. "I merely think a gal who lives here, shakes hands with a Bokor, and feeds him her _blood_ should have a few pointers on how _not_ to incur a painful demise when I'm not looking. That, and proper practice on ways to assist in my work." Pausing, he gave her a wide eyed innocent blink. "Unless you thought I was a vampire. Wouldn't be the first."

Her giggle was the first response to that teasing statement, even as she heard the kettle starting to reach a bubble behind her. Fetching a mug and a bag of the tea he'd gifted her, she set up her little ritual as she answered. "I've never heard much lore about vampires going for much more than blood." She chuckled, flipping the burner off just as the kettle started to whistle and delicately pouring the steaming water over the tea before setting them aside for a few minutes.

While she waited, she watched him resume his work, turning his words over in her mind. "I know your shadows were certainly skittish the other day. And I kind of figured there was a fair bit of magic about. Not everyone has a home this large stuffed into a tiny shack, after all." She chuckled gently, examining the faint line of scar tissue on her palm from where she'd fed him.

"I don't even know why I thought of it. Maybe it was just, well, how you seemed to enjoy it when you had me on the table" she blushed, remembering that feral energy between them.

"I've never met a vampire but I heard in Asia they eat babies." Offhanded around a draught of coffee, pausing his task for the much more pressing caffeine. "But no, I may have a taste for the red but I prefer meat above all else. What _you_ did," he gestured with the blade, turning to lean his hip on the counter and explain, "was initiate a blood ritual. You offered, willingly with the desire to aid and I, knowing how to activate it, took what energy you spared. Had I wanted I _could_ have drained you to a husk and left you to regenerate for however long. And because _of course_ everyone cuts their left hands when they feel up to masochistic drama, you gave me a good sting." 

Resuming his prep he trotted deftly around her to collect bread from its box. "First lesson and maybe the most important to _me_ , if you want to do something wholesome use your right hand next time."

She gave an apologetic smile as he explained, curling her fingers around the mug as she blew on the steaming beverage for a moment. "Sorry. Force of habit being right-handed I guess. I'll remember if I ever have to do that again." She didn't voice the thought that she hoped he wouldn't bring himself to such a state again.

But his explanation got her to thinking and she leaned quietly for a while, staring not at but through her surroundings while her mind worked. 

"So. Without knowing I did magic, or at least started the process. You used the energy, both from that and I can only assume my shock, to help heal yourself? Obviously not fully but I noticed a difference." She paused again for a moment, taking a drink of her tea before answering "Is it hard to learn?"

A dip of his head was satisfied with her assessment of what happened. "It is much like science. There are branches and specialties and many people favor some over others. It's far easier to learn the basics of how to flip a light switch than how the circuit works. But no matter what you know, hit the switch and the bulb turns on!" He laughed heartily, a few memories of stubborn intruders - more escapees - accidentally bringing down terrific pain by hiding in the wrong room. 

"I think you'll grasp the concepts well, and if you show promise in a field I may help further. It's easier for sinners than humans since the soul is so exposed here. I know a few others than my chosen brand of practice." Layering the muffuletta was really just a very specific and garnished sandwich, easy to make absently and en mass. Meats and cheeses topped in an olive salad he kept for such times. Off topic he gestured at her. "Hot or cold, dear?"

"However you like it best. You know I'm not picky." Was her simple answer, mulling over his answer a bit.

Noticing she'd finished her tea when her next drink was dry, she plucked another bag of tea and started the simple ritual again, steeping another cup. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed that little habit.

"I'll admit I'm more than curious. The things I've seen here are amazing. Not that I expect to reach that level by any means but, it certainly is enticing to see what I might pick up."

Using a quick pyrotechnic skill to at least melt the cheese, because who wouldn't, he finished off the healthy pile of sandwiches and cut them to polite size. Not bothering with the table, it was simple to fetch two plates and set them at the island to serve off the platter. 

"When you're curious, ask questions. There are things I will not teach you, but I won't bite over an inquiry. And later I'll show you my workshop." Watching her make tea his eyes were low, glaring at the drink with a morose focus. "I'm flattered you enjoy my home, May. It cost me quite a bit."

Seeing he'd finished prepping the food, she picked up her fresh tea before following him around to the seats. His tone at her compliment had caught her ear but she didn't feel like it would be right to pry.

"You know you're a right show-off sometimes" she chuckled, though, having seen him melt the cheese in such a dramatic fashion. Slipping herself onto one of the stools she waited for him to join her. "But I'd love to see your workshop when you're willing. I'm sure it's fascinating."

A moment later, rum in hand that he poured separate from his coffee, he did join her and wasted no time in making a neat stack of cut portions on his plate. "I'm not sure what use humility has for someone like me in the first place." Deadpan even if he was grinning. No sense denying it.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll love it or flee screaming. Either way will be entertaining." A happy sigh escaped him on his first bite, giving into the feeling of near nostalgic delight from something so intrinsic to his upbringing. "But enough of that, tell me about these friends I'll likely never meet in good company."

Unlike his own larger appetite she only took a few sections, biting into the sandwich with obvious pleasure. She'd have to learn this one for sure.

As she ate, she nodded, thinking back to memories with her friends. "Mmm, well, let me see. There's Peace, I think you'd like her. Or you'd eat her just due to her sheer sass. Everyone calls her Brat but she's really actually a caring person once you know her." She chuckled softly, trying to imagine the mouthy, blue-furred little thing in a setting like this as she ate.

"Then there's Connor. Probably best you don't meet him. Not for personality but, he got a bit tangled up with a Hellhound apparently on his way down. But he's a sweet guy. He's the one that took that picture of me in the crown. He looks like he would be a scary sight in a dark alley, but he's more likely to run screaming. He was the one who tried to get my landlord to let him in to check on me."

She shrugged and made a generically dismissive gesture over the rest. "The others are more acquaintances from work. Folks I know in a crowd and that I talk to but nothing deep."

He listened as he ate, using the excuse to be quiet to satisfy his appetite with only a polite interest in the details of her friends. A hound? Oh yes, no thank you. He stored _that_ away. "I rather like a sassy gal, if they're bold enough with me. I only eat the disrespectful ones." Well, that wasn't entirely true. "Mostly only those." Better.

"Hell based friends, then? Not many keep their living ties." Raising his brows he enjoyed prying at her for a change, she wasn't half as chatty as he was and after the last few days evening the personal field was nice.

She couldn't hold back the chuckle at his words, but nodded. "Yes, I don't think I've found any of my connections from life yet. At least none that I've recognized. I'm pretty sure they'd recognize me, anyway, so it would be simple enough to figure out. I think I look pretty similar to my Earthly side, horns aside. It's hard to remember."

She went quiet for a bit as she indulged in her food, feeling already some of the lingering aches lessen slightly as her body latched onto the meal.

"It's possible I just didn't cross paths with them though. Or they got taken out before we did. Hard to know with so many changes that everyone else seems to have undergone. Honestly I don't know why I didn't."

"Well, once you headline as seen with me if anyone is looking that will be solved." Matter of fact and easily dismissed, no concern to him. "As for survival, you were a petty sinner. Not the usual priority for angels unless you jumped into their path. Violence calls to itself and they rather hunt the worthy than the easy ones." 

Finishing his own plate, he gradually rose to straighten up manually for the sake of movement. "I've run across so many, including a few of the men who killed me. I sometimes forget how broad Hell is given what a small world it seems."

The potential of all of Hell knowing about her was a strange idea. But she did have to admit that apparently there was a decent amount of interest around him, especially with how often they'd been seen out together. Someone was bound to get a clear shot of them together eventually.

Pushing her plate aside slightly she leaned against the countertop with her elbow, twisting slightly to look at him as she propped her cheek against her fist. "Seeing someone you knew to have killed you must have been strange. But then, what's really not down here?" she smirked a bit.

"I think I've seen more of Hell this last week with you than I've seen my entire time here, honestly. It's been quite the adventure." she smiled. "It's a lot to take in but, I'm loving it."

"Can't say I much like staying still, so glad you can enjoy the ride~ I'll drag you through hell and back by time we're through." He winked, snickering at himself as he worked. In the same happy tone he smiled and continued. "It was strange, but also so very fun. I had quite the headstart down here and seeing their faces? Well, it warmed my heart to have such a tasteful reunion." Unbidden his static rose to a distortion, wails and begging hidden under the crackle. He laughed over it, spinning to survey a tidy space and ignoring that small dip of mind.

That steady static rising into that momentary rush earned him a slight shiver as her ear picked out the terrified voices and cries within it. "Do..." She started a moment and paused, fiddling with the counter edge a moment before finishing her thought. "Do you remember all the screams? Or just the ones you enjoy most?"

It was a dark curiosity out of her, knowing that certainly hers were hidden in that strange mind of his somewhere.

It was a dangerously personal question, rising the black almost immediately as she damn near summoned the answer of urgent, feminine shrieks and begging through a din of interference. Head tilting with a _wicked_ grin, he manifested his microphone to shut off the playback. 

"If you care to keep a secret, I remember _everything_ I hear. Word for word, cry for cry. But I only keep my _favorites_ in mind. The rest~" He gestured with his cane, turning it so it could blink sleepily at her. "Mic tell her a story~" 

That eye looked between them, obediently parroting after a distorted yawn.

《"He scares me, sometimes, but..."》 A perfect sounding of her voice, plucked right out of the air. 《"But I think I find myself caring for him. I can't explain it."》

Her fingers tightened a bit at the edge of that counter as she heard those screams filtering through his thoughts. She couldn't be certain they were _hers_ specifically, but they very well could have been. It was a relief when he summoned his cane and she nodded quietly at his subtle mention to keep it to herself.

But when her words played back so clearly that conversation she'd had with his Shade, she blushed brightly. Her eyes dropped from his, staring awkwardly at her fingers as she tried to decide if he'd meant that as a compliment or a blatant needling.

Banishing his extension once again Alastor circled the counter, her shy response just begging him to tease. How she could stare him down one moment and hide the next was such a delight. 

Lifting her jaw on the very tips of his claws he bent to breathe into her ear. "A better question, Mayflower - will I ever forget what you _taste_ like?" Everything in his tone, his posture and the slight click of his teeth on that word said 'no'.

With her gaze lifted back to his, that flush of color only spread. As he leaned in, her eyes fell closed again, shivering as he spoke right into her ear. It made her feel so vulnerable and yet she couldn't deny the thrill it gave her.

Knowing he was delighting in pressing her buttons, she lingered there, throat exposed and heart racing. Her fingers tightened a bit where they gripped, subtly trying to ground herself in that momentary rush as she let out a soft breath. Trying to find her voice as that pulse fluttered the way he seemed to like along her neck.

In all his years he'd never had someone like her, so clearly scared he could smell it but still willing and cooing and _sweet_ on him. It pushed buttons of his own, mercilessly edging him to be his most mannered, worst self. 

To break her and see if the pieces went back together after or just fell through his claws. 

The demon pressed the ghost of a kiss to her cheek just to be cruel and finished his thought there on her skin. "I think I have dinner plans already~" And then he walked away to leisurely head to his study, barely turning back to glance at her before ducking out.

Her breath escaped in a shuddering rush at that brush of his lips against her cheek before his words earned him a soft whimper. Somehow resisting the urge to grab for him as her breaths teased at his ear.

And then those claws were gone, leaving her to gasp as if to catch her breath after a run as he walked away, her hands pressing to her cheeks as she shivered. _Dammit_ he was good at that.

Knowing she wouldn't be able to focus on reading now she retreated to the library, plucking out some music as she searched for tunes she could remember. Finally she had found one, the simple tune of Für Elise drifting through the house as he rested in his study.

Settling into his chair Alastor had his own book, another glass at his elbow as he settled into a good, true relaxation. It only made him smile more when the resilient gal started up what sounded like a rusty skill at the classic, growing steadier as she gained her feet with the instrument. 

Humming along he made himself a wager with a glance to the clock, propped up his feet, and dipped into one of his favorite novels, _I Am Death_ , without any regret that he either left her in denial or the building spiral towards the idea that she would be gracing his table tonight. 

_-The darkness inside the small, windowless cell was absolute. In spite of that, his drowsy eyes first moved left, then right, as if searching for something before almost closing again._  
The blur of confusion that had enveloped his brain was so intense, he was unsure if any of this was true, if he was really awake or not. But then came the pain—powerful, unmistakable, and immediate like a nuclear blast, spreading through every atom of his body with unimaginable speed and doing away with the doubt.   
This was no nightmare. This was something much, much worse.- 

She tried. She tried so hard not to think about his words. But it kept repeating in her head as she played. The way he'd told her she'd end up on his table again all those days ago in his sitting room. She'd almost been able to forget it until now. 

She'd been able to keep the worst of the thoughts away as she worked through the repertoire of music long-secreted away in her mind, focused on unearthing the melodies and fingering positions. Classical, modern, even a few ragtime and jazz songs that she had learned so many years ago. But finally the thoughts just became too much.

Closing the cover gently over the keys, she leaned onto the piano, the wood cool and oddly comforting as she tried to keep that panicking part of her mind contained.

Alastor noticed when the music finally died, the sudden stillness of only his static prickling at his ears. Glancing at the clock he grinned, sending his shadow off to surreptitiously check on May as he flipped a page and paused his reading to focus more on that tether. 

To say he didn't hope she was scared was an understatement but a part of him wanted to see her walk proudly towards unknown pain. It was fascinating how she dealt with him, endlessly amusing, and maybe he was feeling just a tad bit mean in wanting that little spark of control back. Not that he'd lost it, but he'd lost _himself_. So certainly a treat was in order.

His Shade would find her still at the piano, fingers laced together over the back of her neck as her head resting on the cover of the keys. With her eyes closed she wouldn't see the shadowy figure taking in her form curled on itself atop the bench. 

After what felt like an impossible wait she finally lifted her head, staring mindlessly at the clock in the silence. Only then did she rise from the bench. Despite the fear telling her to flee, to hide, to save herself she knew it wouldn't do any good.

Quietly she worked her way down the stairs, her heart pounding harder the closer she drew to the door of his study until she was finally framed in the doorway. Gripping it for support in the face of him as she gazed at him, eyes full of terror despite her willing appearance in his study.

Feigning total innocence Alastor barely raised his eyes from his book, no surprise after watching her descend the stairs to him. Closing it on his finger he raised a brow. "Yes, dear? You look like you have something to say~" Tone sweet, he wondered if she had it in her. She looked like she was trying at least.

That sweet tone was nearly cruel in her terrified state, her fingers tightening on the door frame to keep from losing the ability to stand still. The terror was beating against the failing cage in her mind. But she was trying to keep it in check.

"W... Were you wanting my company now?" she asked in a wavering voice.

Slowly, as though dealing with a flighty creature, he set his book aside and rose to pad over to her. Eyes low above his ever bright smile and stopping with his hand outstretched just shy of touching her chin. Listening to her heart race despite her inability to give into its urge to flee. "It appears you want mine, it would be impolite to send you away, hm?" 

He knew the time, and more importantly he knew she _picked_ the time without trying to avoid him. Simply adorable. "I'm sure you know the way~" Flexing his fingers, an invitation to take them.

Her gaze followed him in that slow journey across the room, lifting as his height forced her to look up. Her heart nearly stopped when he held out his hand. He'd been smart to move slowly because her mind was screaming desperately for her to run.

A soft whimper escaped her at his words, flinching slightly as he flexed his fingers. Her own hand was shaking noticeably when she finally released the frame she stood in and took his hand, having to force every movement against instinct. But somehow she managed to unroot herself from her spot, letting out a ragged breath as she walked with him to the inexplicable door of his dining room and that inevitable table.

Holding her hand in an easy to break grip, Alastor was quiet beside her, gaze halfway on her and letting her set the pace. Her terrified thoughts were on her face, he could see her eyes rattling in the force of them, and biting back a laugh was all he could do. 

At that barrier between civility and nature he at least took pity to lead her, helping her pick her way through undergrowth and trees to his favorite spot. Yes, there was a table, but it was smaller than the full bodied one he'd laid her on. Poised nicely under the tree and draped in a recognizable white cloth stained in deep red splashes. 

Looking back to her, he gave her a gentle look. "Ready dear? All you need do is follow instructions~"

Her teeth bit at the inside of her lip as he led her toward that familiar tree, her fingers tightening in his at the sight of that table. It drew a soft whimper again as she saw those stains, her pace stumbling a moment before she regained herself.

Unable to find her voice now, she looked up at him and gave a tiny nod, shaking and terrified but obedient all the same.

"Good girl~" He purred, tugging her over without tripping her to slowly pick her up and sit her right on the table like a stool. Stepping back he surveyed her clothes then adjusted her off her skirt with a clinical eye. "Raise your arms now." Pointing straight up with one hand, the other rolling in a fist as he moved shadows and worked.

She shivered at his words, biting back a fresh whimper at his strangely gentle praise. Her body trembled as he so easily lifted her into the table, doing her best to shift the way he needed as he adjusted her to his liking. 

After a moment, she raised her arms like he'd indicated, looking like a strange form of surrender as she perched atop that table. At least she'd stopped shaking so much as the curiosity peeked in despite the situation, giving her something besides panic to cling to as she watched him.

Shadows roped down from the branches above, twining her wrists and tugging them up to meet above her. Not lifting her but giving her only the space to arch and flex, twisting down her forearms in both a hold and giving her a grip. Similar tentacles snagged her ankles, keeping her legs bent at right angles over the edge of the table and nothing more.

The feel of those shadowy tentacles roping around her limbs made her jerk back in automatic reaction, struggling for a moment before she managed to settle again. Her chest heaving as she struggled to maintain her rapidly slipping composure.

"Pardon the rudeness but one good kick taught me a lesson." He chuckled, pulling his chair to place and setting between her legs. Still of a height to look her in the eye and lifting a familiar blade. "Now, our prior date was a bit jarring, I'm sure, but trust that I _can_ be civil. Question is, can you?"

As he settled between her legs like it was the most natural thing in the world, she squirmed again, whimpering as the shadows gripped more tightly for a moment until she stilled. A momentary spike of panic as her body fought against the reality it knew was coming.

A whine escaped her at his question, hands twisting into fists as she tried to calm herself at the sight of that blade. She honestly couldn't be sure what to expect of herself in this state. "I... I'll try, Alastor. I'm just so scared." The admission escaped her quietly, but honestly.

Blade tucked between his fingers he ran his hands up her thighs, something he deviated from normal on, and leaned in with the _happiest_ look. 

" _I know you are~_ "

It bunched her skirt up and the knife followed, the spine against her stomach as he slit it from below her ribs down to push the fabric behind her hips. Nothing deviant was in his touch or face to expose her under layers, professional when he slit the top of her thigh from hip to knee in a reminiscent cut from their 'lesson' in his pantry. Opening flesh with a low crackling hum at the fast pace of her blood.

Her teeth bit into her lip as he ran his fingers up her legs, muscles tensing as her skirt was bunched up to her hips. Despite herself she blushed as the fabric was sliced away and bunched behind her, squirming gently at the cold touch of that blade.

It was good he'd lashed her down when she felt that knife drag down her thigh. That familiar fiery scream of her nerves forced a similar scream from her throat as she arched, leg trying to kick in reaction to the pain. All it did was work more of that crimson free as she squirmed, breathing shakily in front of him as he watched her blood flow over that pale flesh.

A few simple cuts peeled the flesh back with unnecessary care, exposing raw oozing muscle underneath while his ears flicked to hear every delectable shriek. "See? Manners or no the body just _won't_ behave. Such a masterpiece of survival, we are. Takes so much to train that out." 

By the time he finished peeling her skin back she was crying openly from the burn in her thigh. The exposed muscle was left wetly glistening as she panted for breath under the waves of pain. She hardly heard his words, her mind too overloaded with the pain to process anything else.

Passing the knife to his other hand he fetched a steak fork from beside her, stabbing with practice away from fatal vessels and neatly carved a piece out. "If you'd like to chat, you're welcome to, but I suspect you're not quite there yet." Such was his mood, cutlery in hand and an easy tune in the air, eating off her like a plate as she was held in place for his fresh meal. Taking his time and savoring it.

As that flatware stabbed into her living muscle to help him carve, she shrieked anew and tried yet again to pull free of those tentacles binding her limbs. Her peeled thigh twitched and jittered as the nerves fired fruitlessly, keeping the surface of that torn muscle slick with flowing blood.

Finally she found her voice in a moment of clarity. "Alastor! Alastor please, it _hurts_ " she sobbed, wrists twisting in those bonds. Knowing he wouldn't release his favorite prey but having to voice it anyway.

Biting the fork around meat it pulled free with a screech, the demon watching her as he patiently chewed before answering her. "May, I'd be _quite_ surprised if it _didn't!_ " Almost pitying but lacking the depth of tone as he fought it past the singing pleasure in his chest hearing that broken cry. It didn't still his hands, just as tidy and discreetly ravenous as any meal they'd shared. 

"I'm sure you'd rather I just take it but that lacks the same thrill. In this we share the delight! Wouldn't you agree?" Careful cuts worked around the bone and femoral, carving her neatly even if it spared no sensation. "I'd even share if you liked. Would you? Taste yourself for me?" A flutter of his eyes was teasing, absolutely serious and merciless.

Her back arched as she clenched her teeth at the newest carve of that knife, only partially stifling that cry that bubbled free of her throat. She could feel each stroke of that knife as he carved her so skillfully, her arms still twisting and tensing in those bonds as her body still tried to pull away from that pain.

Her eyes were glazed with obvious pain by the time his question drew her attention back to him, whimpering as he offered her such a horrible option. The shreds of her sanity screamed in horror, but the part of her cowed in the moment told her to accept it. That it was only _right_ , that he'd asked her to be _obedient_ and this was what he wanted. But slowly she nodded, the moment of thought having calmed her tears slightly. "Yes... Yes, I'll try it. F-for you."

The agreement paused him, a hitch of sweet, hopeful delight in hearing her willingness. It actually took him by surprise but what a marvelous surprise it was. If she could do it.

Grin glowing he was almost tender to cut a new piece, taking care to be gentle while her mind was focused and acute. Using his knuckles to support her chin, the poor dear really was shaking, the demon raised that fork to her lips with raised brows. "For me~" he parroted in a tone hard to place between need and curiosity. Just the idea she _might_ made his lung hitch again.

Even as gentle as he was she cried softly as he carved another bite from her thigh. Her body was doing everything it could to lessen the pain but even then it couldn't reduce the fresh jags of sensation as the knife cut through the fibers of her muscle.

As he lifted her chin so gently, she shuddered softly. Her thigh throbbed and twitched and burned below, a new pattern of blood slowly soaking into the tablecloth below her restrained leg. The smell of blood filled her nose more strongly as that fork was lifted to her lips. Swallowing to ease her dry, raw throat, she parted her lips and took the bite between her teeth delicately.

The raw meat on her tongue made her gag faintly for a moment before she swallowed back the trickle of blood that had escaped it. That seemed to ease things and after a moment she started to chew. That last bit of protesting thought finally slipped away as she swallowed it down. It... Hadn't been as bad as she'd expected. Almost like the center of a rare steak. It seemed to bring her around slightly despite the deep pain in her flayed leg.

Wide red eyes never left her face, watching avidly as she fought through that first horrified reaction with more grace than some regular consumers had. Knowing what, and who, broke lesser people and absolute _pride_ lit up his face. "Oh, darling~" He breathed, beyond delight and near _manic_ with glee watching her take that step so easily. 

Not that it earned her reprieve, he was still hungry and after he tore his eyes from her he resumed feeding himself off her but now, after sating the greed of his own teeth he parted another for her, giggling in a dare for her to take it.

Her gaze lifted to his as she heard that praise, so full of delight and joy, and for a moment a small pained smile curled her lips. His gleeful face flickered a bit of happiness within her, only further twisting her into his sway.

Her jaw clenched as he began to carve at her thigh again, lips curling in a pained snarl that revealed the lingering traces of her own blood on her lips and teeth. As he lifted that bite to his own lips she panted softly, trying desperately to steady her breathing under the continual ebb and flow of pain.

When he carved away another piece, she whimpered quietly, fists tightening above her head again. She was trying to breathe through each stroke of the knife, trying to keep her head through the pain. This bite went easier, though a bit of blood escaped the corner of her mouth to run towards her chin as she worked it down. Somewhere amidst the pain her body recognized that she was _hungry_ , and here he was feeding her.

Alastor was laughing, almost too pure for what he was doing to her and suddenly it was a game of give and take. Taking turns and being _sweet_ in how he offered them and supported her when she shook in agony. Certainly nothing pure was in his heart, watching her teeth and face drip, and nothing kind in opening her other leg because it was only _fair_ if he was sharing to serve twice the meal. 

"Tell me, Mayflower..." By Hell he sounded giddy to his own ears, "still just for me?" He teased with a bite just outside her reach.

The flaying of her other leg sent her into the heights of pain again, fresh cries of pain tearing from her despite her struggle not to. Her ruined thigh still seeped sluggishly onto the tablecloth, the darkening stains now being joined by a growing twin under her other leg.

But each bite was easier, growing used to the heavy copper taste on her tongue as she helped devour her own legs. His support in her moments of pain helped her battle through, caught in dizzying spikes and valleys of happiness and firey pain.

Breathing raggedly through the deep pain of that most recent carve, she shook in her restraints visibly as she choked back a threatening sob. His words, that sweet name for her, pulled her back again, eyes refocusing on his after a moment. 

She saw the next bite, hovered just outside the reach of her teeth. The scales in her pain-addled mind worked for a moment, debating if the shift on her ravaged legs would be worth the movement before she leaned forward in her shadowy bonds, trying to catch the fork in her teeth before he could pull it back.

It was an answer louder than words, almost feral, and he did not rob her of the reward. Meeting her lunge partway and gritting his own teeth in a happy snarl. That, above anything, earned her mercy. Not from his hunger but from the pain she had so bravely and beautifully endured.

Dipping his arm around her the sharp tines of that fork drove deep into her spine with a harsh tug, just under her ribs with a twist. Holding it through the pain of that blow, when Alastor pulled the tool free to lick it clean he was rumbling white noise in his chest. "Such a good, brave girl. Now...let's wrap up before it's time for bed." Chuckling as though it were all perfectly casual and resuming his generous serving of them both until he felt he had picked her bare enough to satisfy.

The taste of that bite earned him the first noise of pleasure that had managed to work out of her since this meal had begun. Her eyes closed as she swallowed it down with obvious enjoyment, feeling his arm snake around her. 

The unexpected tug of his arm pulled her against him for a moment as she cried out from the pain shooting through her back. She felt the grate of metal on bone before he twisted and shredded the nerves connecting her mind to her lower body. She nearly sobbed in sheer relief as that throbbing pain suddenly evaporated, even as her weight was suddenly suspended from her wrists entirely.

It was strange, feeling the motions of that carving but not the effects of it. She watched his skilled motions with fresh interest now that the pain was no longer felt, her legs still under his knife as they shared that bloody meal. Somewhere amidst it she smiled at him, a genuine one no longer twisted by pain. "Thank you, Alastor" she said simply. She didn't specify if it was for his merciful action or for giving her this strangely intimate moment.

Once she was paralyzed he released her legs, and as time went on started to slowly drop her arms so the muscles could waken on their own and be mobile by time he released those too. Actually rather warmed by her thanks, he smiled as he fed her the last bit with a wink. "It's been my pleasure, Miss May."

Tools aside he knew it was a kindness she couldn't feel the tonic he summoned to pour on her hollowed legs, wrapping a simple cover over them to more prevent strange healing than any cleanliness. With her immobile, it was easy to tidy up, one hand on her shoulder to steady her as he did before just simply lifting her in a bridal carry. "Now, was that so bad?" Her weight meant nothing as he picked his way through the foliage to head upstairs, still merry but calmer in his soul deep satisfaction.

Her shoulders protested slightly at first when he finally released her arms, having been held up against her struggles for so long. Quickly she caught herself, her paralyzed lower body no longer responding to the calls to keep her upright. Bracing herself as upright as she could on her arms, she watched him curiously as he attended to her ruined thighs. It was still so strange seeing but suddenly not _feeling_ such an intrinsic part of her own body, awareness brought by the simple disconnect he'd caused.

As he scooped her easily into his arms, she smiled, sinking into that trusting state as she leaned her head against his chest. "It was... At first. But," she paused a moment, turning the images over in her mind. "But it wasn't so scary as the first time" she finally admitted, cradled in his arms as he carried her like it was nothing.

"No, I didn't suspect so. You did very well, after you found yourself. Although the rest was quite beautiful." Enough he had actually thought to torture the gal before she deviated his attentions so splendidly, and that carried into the praise with a dark lilt. 

Stopping by her room he shifted May to one arm, flicking lightly through her wardrobe with half an ear to her for some sort of restful attire, and collected her book. "No sense in bloodying up your bed."

She blushed softly at his praise, even as she felt that little tremble within her at that subtly dark tone. The way he handled her so easily put her in such an easy state, even as it reminded her how easily he _could_ break her if he wanted.

As he picked out some clothing for her, she happily took it, keeping his hands free to secure her book. Taking it gently from his fingers, she glanced up at him curiously before the meaning sank in. Not only had he helped with that healing tonic, but he was going to let her recover in _his_ rooms.

"You're so kind. Thank you," she smiled, starting to sink into the pull of sleep now that her adrenaline was wearing off and her body was calling for the recuperating effects of rest.

It made his smile tighten, "No, I'm really not," he whispered, avoiding looking at her until he was in his rooms. He wasn't _kind_ , he was a selfish, sadistic old loon and hearing her say that with her own blood on her breath was far too sweet to handle. Where he wanted her was entirely for his own happiness and senses.

The bed smelled far too strongly of her for him to even think about joining her, passing her off to his shadow to adjust and curl around her like a protective beast. Seeing that impulse manifested made Alastor quirk a brow at it, receiving only an innocent blue blink, but they were well acquainted with not _always_ being on the same wavelength. 

Turning away he let her adjust her clothing with it's aid, free to do as she wished while the demon sat by his fire to subtly shake out his head. Deciding to open a window to air the place out.

It was still foreign, feeling the cold solidity of that shadow as it curled around her, but she welcomed the shade's cool touch as she was settled onto Alastor's bed. She was able to take care of her own shirt, slipping into the loose sleep top with only the need for Shadow to help hold her fully upright to allow her to pull it all the way down. 

The pants got more interesting. Unable to move her deadened legs, it was awkward to dress without enlisting the Shade's help. But the pair of them managed it, finally settling comfortably with her book in reach.

Not that she even opened it. Her body simply demanded sleep and she didn't fight it, hardly able to pull the covers over herself before she sank into exhaustion while her body healed. Even so her fingers curled into his pillow, somehow aware on an unknown level of that strange comfort even in her wrecked state.

It was a relief she was so quickly asleep, leaving Alastor to what he would have filled his evening with regardless. A rare glass of wine and the remainder of his book, feet kicked up lazily in the chair across and keeping his music low. 

It only distracted him when Shadow would untangle every hour or so, looking over May and adjusting the bed into a gradually disarrayed nest around her. The demon actually glared with enough force to pause the Shade when he looked over at some point to see the inky form bent over her and _pawing_ blankets in place like a deranged feline. Sheepishly it sank back around the girl, eyes and ears visible over her side in quiet apology. It didn't do it again.

But at least the scents of nature and cooler breeze helped relax him, drifting between his murder novel and the pleasing memory of her slip into his favorite brand of madness.


	8. Some Things Never Change

Unaware of the way his shadow was fussing over her, she _slept_. Her body simply needed it as it rebuilt muscle and fused her shredded nerves back together over hours of rest.

At some point she was healed enough to roll onto her side in that nested bed, legs pulling up as she moved into a loose curl within Shade's embrace. Despite the natural chill of that form, he had nested her in enough that she was comfortable.

Once the worst of the damage was healed under the bloodied wraps on her thighs that sleep lightened, allowing the quiet music to infiltrate her dreamscape. Occasional soft vocalizations escaped her, words of the dream muddled by her unconscious form, movements translating into subtle twitches of her limbs or fingers. She didn't even know it but more than once her lips twitched in a faint snarl before settling over her teeth again.

Morning found Alastor as rested as possible for the lack of sleep, partly aware of her disrupted mind but after that evening it was no surprise. A persistent ping had started in his mind around six, a certain annoying associate trying in progressively less polite ways to call him. By eight it had devolved into psychological warfare of dirty phrases and cringing jokes that finally dragged him out of his chair if nothing else than to go _shut him up_. 

At the bedside he conferred quietly with Shadow, not wanting to invade the nest just to check the status of her healing. Pawing an injured woman, even if one he owned, was a sour thought. At least the Shade thought she was much repaired, waving him off to the library to make his reluctant call as it stayed and petted the slowly awakening woman.

When she finally woke fully it was to the feel of those soft pets over her form. Stretching gently, she signalled her wakefulness before finally glancing up to see Shadow curled against her. It brought a gentle smile to her face as she patted his fingers, sitting up slowly and testing the once-ruined thighs. Everything seemed in decent order.

"Catch me if I start to fall?" She asked him gently, extracting herself from the nest he'd drawn around her so she could try to slip from the bed. She didn't hear Alastor, but figured he wasn't far off after sitting with her overnight. He was nothing if not attentive in the wake of his feasts, it seemed.

Nodding energetically Shadow patted her shoulders, slipping in and out of phase to move around her and offer both hands in aid up. Whatever she wanted to do, he was eager to help in the afterglow of a long cuddly night. That fearlessness was intoxicating. 

Careful to support her he practically blended to her own shadow, covering the faint shake to her in his bracing presence. 

With a hint of hesitation, she took Shade's hands and slid from the bed. A slight dip was all that happened, momentarily gripping his hands tighter for a heartbeat before she recovered. Feeling much more steady, she nodded and slowly crossed the room. After a few steps she finally released the shadow. Everything seemed fine after that first initial waver.

By the time she'd reached his outer doors she was back to her usual self. She'd just have to check the look in a moment. "Go ahead if you need." She told the shadowed figure that had been helping her. "I'm sure he'll want to know I'm awake and upright. I just need to freshen up."

Heading to her own room, she stripped off the blood-marked pants before settling on her bed to carefully remove the wraps he'd covered her with last night. Aside from the few lines in her skin where he'd flayed her open, everything looked mostly back to normal. She was sure the angry marks of those scars would fade before long, as well. She couldn't help but marvel quietly at how rapidly everything had rebuilt as she went about her routines.

Laying on the back of his piano, grumbling in audible suffering, Alastor was listening to the long rambles of Valentino waxing about an issue he wanted the deer's aid in, taking his sweet and flirtatious time to get around to what _Alastor_ would get out of it. Such an attention whore.

Once she felt presentable again, back in a skirt and a light blouse with her hair properly arranged again, she found her way toward his voice, unable to completely cut off the slight giggle that escaped her. The sight of him laying atop the piano with an expression of _obvious_ suffering just stuck her as funny. Carefully, she padded over, slipping onto the piano bench as she reached out to tease at the tip of one of his ears with a clawtip.

His ear flicked, surprised by her forward motion as he tilted his head back to blink at her with a mix of scold and humor. Far too invested in the voice in his head droning at him. Mouthing at her 'listen to this guy' he flicked his microphone and it went full speaker- 

"-come on babe, you know how I worry about them? You got the best skills for tha job. Just fetch him back, without the blood, and I'll pay ya pretty. I'll even pay ya in cash." The insect was wheedling with the air of several repetitions.

"You know I don't much care for your pets, my friend. Not looking, not _smelling_ and certainly _not touching_ them." He sighed.

"Not asking ya to bed him, drag him back in a _bag_ but _please_ Al, baby. I've lost 12 men trying to get that tart back-"

"You haven't just gone yourself?" 

"...that looks desperate." A bit tiny, defensive.

"You _are_ desperate. Over a _whore_." Alastor was so done with this chat but hanging up would only get him called back. All day.

"I am NOT you-" Alastor interrupted the snarling denial with a short screech of interference. "Me what? Pardon Val but unless you'd like to send a bounty out to the eyes, all I can do is offer a milk carton commercial. Perhaps a 'Hey you runaway sleaze, your pimp is coming so run _faster_ ' if you will, because nothing I do will convince him to walk home."

There was a long silence of grumbles and finger tapping. "Why are you always right."

Her lips curled in a mischievous smirk as he shot that look at her, but she behaved. Leaning in on the covered keys, she listened to the conversation curiously. The name drop finally clued her fully in to who was in the other end of that call, mind pulling up the image of the Overlord who'd nearly monopolized Alastor's attention at the show. _That's_ who was whining down the line?

Muffling a soft snicker as Valentino finally was brought to a frustrated silence, she pondered what the reaction would be if she spoke up with a barb aimed at the other man. Instead she just whispered it into the deer's ear. "Because you're more clever than him about keeping pets, that's why." No need to risk fueling a fight between them but she figured Alastor might enjoy the little barb anyway.

Damn near barking a laugh, he answered them both although directed at the call. "Well I _am_ more clever than _you_. Perhaps you should just relax, enjoy the wait until your dearest friend helps? You seem to favor his skill over mine anyway~" Absolutely teasing, rubbing in a sour point between them until Valentino was growling and switching gears.

"Then you _owe_ me this! If you hadn't-"

"No, I owed _him_ that scuffle. I warned him at least a month ago I hated that tower. He didn't have to be there." Perfectly calm, inspecting his gloves even if he was grinning wickedly.

"Did you really think a polite memo...that he would just _let you_ -" Huffing, audibly exasperated.

"No, but it was an option."

"STOP INTERRUPTING ME!" Valentino was shrill and victoriously Alastor laughed until his eyes felt teary with static. A free flow of curses and swears didn't appreciate his cackling but when he could sigh and find his voice he stopped the jabs. "If he hasn't woken up by weeks end I'll hunt your whore. But you'll owe me a _favor_." He put a full dose of purring charm on that word and they both could hear the small whine from the pimp. "Deal?"

"Deal!" Automatic and Alastor rolled his eyes and hung up without another word.

"He is insufferable. How do _you_ feel, dearie?"

She stifled a laugh as she listened to the man coming unraveled in frustration until Alastor offered him a final option. Once the call was ended she let it slip more freely. It was obvious her keeper had enjoyed at least part of that exchange.

"I'm fine. A few scars still healing over but otherwise I seem to be in working order. Even walked myself down here all on my own!" She chuckled, sitting straighter on the bench. "What's his big snit about anyway? I thought he was only in the film industry, not street walking. Seems a bit odd to be calling you over that."

Looking her over he rolled onto his stomach, legs curled and chin propped on a fist. "You _do_ seem to agree with my juju. That's good to see."

Waving a hand he couldn't suppress a laugh. "Dear, if that old roach was out walking he would be broke. No, he only got into film after his alliance with Vox. He's a pimp first and foremost and has an ever revolving door of contracted harlots. And for _some_ reason he can't keep them alive or in his studio. A few troublemakers in the batch." Sighing like a disappointed father he shook his head, eyes low. "Too heavy handed I think. No class, but again, look at the man. Simply all pomp and no brain." That wasn't true, the man was an industrial genius but Alastor hated to admit it.

She couldn't help but chuckle the way he just lounged atop the piano. Even as he explained the entire situation with Val she was mentally shuffling through her songs to find one to be mischievous with.

"Good thing I guess I never encountered him. You might get a bit, mm, creative in your handling of me at times but at least I know in the end I'll perk back up." She smiled gently, even as she opened the keys and started playing. She was sure he'd recognize the tune, a favorite still in her day as she flourished a bit into 'Fly Me to the Moon' with a playful smirk up at him

"Creative, hm?" He honestly expected a stronger word and that had him grinning before she ever started the tune. His own smile widened to match hers, not sure what she was so playful about but catching the mood.

Right on cue he picked up the lyrics, easy in his tone and crooking a finger for her to join him. 

_Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On a, Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, baby, kiss me_

_Fill my heart with song  
And let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, I love you_

_Fill my heart with song  
Let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, in other words  
I love you~_

Her playing backed into a more simple version as she saw him signalling to join in. Hard to keep track of both so she just had to sacrifice a bit. But she happily joined him in the song, her own voice harmonizing above his to let him carry the tune more suited to his range.

As they finished out the spirited little song, she closed the keys again. "Wondered if that would tempt you enough. I had a feeling that one might just work." She chuckled, cheeks flushed gently. Despite the frightening start to the night before she seemed to have gotten over it well. 

"Thank you for lending me Shade, by the way. It was nice having him when I woke up. I'll admit those first few steps were a little unsure." She smiled up at him.

Humming without tune he nodded, waving off her thanks. "No sense leaving you debilitated. You aren't here for torture dear." Rolling off the piano fluidly, he extended a hand. "And if you enjoy a song you need only ask. I'm posilutely _full_ of them." 

His eyes promised her another if she wished, playfully glittering after that sweet little number she chose. Rather unlike his tastes but he could see where _her_ mind tended to run.

Rising smoothly from the bench, she brushed her skirt into order and took his hand. "I'll keep that in mind! I just wanted to see if I could coax one out of you. You looked perfectly placed up on that piano and I couldn't resist."

Tipping her gaze up to his, she smiled. "Now I seem to remember you mentioned you'd show me a bit more of your home. Now that we're both up and about I'd love to see it. If you're willing, of course."

Keeping hold of her he twirled her, chuckling in a tease. "When did you get so bossy? Scheduling my day now~ well that took no time at all honey-dearest." Dusting off a new favored joke, letting the song stuck in his head roll into his static like an instrumental storm.

"If you can keep up dancing, I'll take you downstairs. Deal?" He didn't wait for an answer, dragging her along in the height of his energy as the morbid love song came unbidden, turn for turn.

_"You say I make you nervous, a tragedy  
I'm a beautiful disaster, a reckoning  
You wonder how I got this way~  
You think I'm someone to be saved, someone to clean up and tame  
Oh some men never change, never change, oh_

_You think I would look pretty on your arm  
Once you cover up my bruises and battle scars  
But it always ends the same  
Can't bear the things I've had to face  
Got you crying on your knees in pain  
Oh some men never change, never change, oh_

_You'll break your back to make me feel again  
Suffocate to make me breathe again  
Lose your mind from endless praying  
Some men never change, never change, oh  
Redemption never came~"_

She laughed softly as he twirled her, the smallest glimpse of the lingering marks on her legs flashing into view for just a moment before the fabric settled again. She'd missed those sudden spins and it showed her exactly how high his mood seemed to be.

Dragged along before she could even give her answer, she could only listen to the newest song, letting the haunting melody sink into her mind.

It was an easy outlet for him, forcing her pace and burning his energy even as he enjoyed the dark tone and circled them around his library in erract moves. She was just so easy to spin, even if he was keeping her apart from himself with that resumed habit. 

_'I stopped asking for forgiveness 'cause you should know  
Only fools tread where the angels fear to go  
But you keep trying to get too close  
Saved myself by turning into stone  
So save your judgment 'cause you just don't know  
But some men never change, never change, oh_

_They say I should feel guilty and change my ways  
Leaving crumpled bodies in my wake  
Swear I didn't mean to make them break  
But they're so delicate and so mundane  
And they keep coming like a moth to flame  
Oh some sins never change, never change_

_You'll break your back to make me feel again  
Suffocate to make me breathe again  
Lose your mind from endless praying  
Some men never change, never change, oh  
Redemption never came~"_

He ended her with a literal toss in the air, spinning and throwing her to catch and twirl. Laughing and bright eyed before he let go to straighten his hair with a crooked and almost breathless grin.

He made it easy to keep step, even without any real skill at dancing on her part, and despite the lyrics he had her smiling nearly as wide as himself by the end of the song.

The toss earned him a surprised squeal, ending up dizzied and breathless but still on her feet when he let go to straighten his hair. Her own fingers busied themselves correcting her hair and any mussing that had happened to her clothing in the dancing.

"Mmm. Bossy or not, I think I just satisfied your deal." She smirked, cheeks flushed lightly after the unexpected dance through his library. "And besides, it was your idea originally" she chuckled, as she reached up to straighten his collar.

Even as he nodded, agreeing she had indeed earned the right - or horror - of being shown about, he stepped back with a purposefully casual step to avoid her hands. Straightening himself as if he hadn't noticed her attempt he flashed her a grin. "Then after me, Miss May~ and I'll show you where I work my magic! Ha!" And turned away to head down to the ground floor and the oft locked door he had not shown her prior.

While his obvious evasion initially sent a spike of annoyance through her she quickly pushed it away and arranged her face into a neutral smile. This was how he was, after all. Well, recent events aside, she reasoned. That was still a strange mystery she hadn't figured out yet.

But her smile turned genuine in response to his, her curiosity piqued as she followed him down the stairs. Thankfully the healing in her muscles was completed, as she seemed to have no issues navigating them.

Catching her eye he gestured at the door, tapping it with a claw to make the veve glow warning. "If you'd like to keep your skin on, check for locks. This one is rather nasty." Clenching his fist until it was wet with blood he pressed the door, unlocking it to a _long_ stairwell downward that he led her to without further comment. All stone and chilled as opposed to the comfortable house. 

The warning was clearly understood from the look in her eyes. She was suddenly glad she hadn't tried to go wandering before now. But she followed him into that chilled stairwell without comment.

Below there was a narrow hall that twisted in directions, metal doors lining it without windows or indication of their purpose but still _exactly_ obvious as cells. Some had wet puddles, mixes of water and blood and something brackish leaking underneath while others were clean. It was completely silent. 

Walking along slowly he headed the path he knew to his workshop and studio, bypassing them all with the understanding she would follow.

The sight of the obvious cells made her pause and pale slightly, her steps carefully skirting the puddles as she moved to catch up with him. She suddenly realized how lucky she was to have the room she did instead of being secreted down here. Her mind couldn't be sure what was more disturbing in that moment, the fact that she could tell they had been recently used, or the fact that silence now reigned aside from the sounds of their passing. The idea of being entombed down here in that heavy silence made her shiver behind him as he led her through the twisting halls.

She wanted to ask about it, of course she did. She wanted to ask what there would be to show her down here behind a locked door. But it seemed like it would be a violation of some natural order to break that silence.

At the end he opened a simple wooden door into a room the size of a large bedroom, flicking a switch to pale hanging bulbs above their heads that didn't warm the atmosphere much. There was a large, low work table in the center that was cleaned off although stained, rough hewn but flat wood. The walls themself were lined in shelves absolutely _packed_ in all the ingredients and accessories he could need. Jars of parts, powders and separated bones and herbs, bushels of other plants tied and dried next to pin cushions that simply had reached a max capacity of needles. Dolls, literal dolls unlike the more public friendly, sat in corners by the drove. Twisted and misshapen with horns and fangs and stitch work on canvas bodies of all sizes. Here and there simple magic craft items like candles and cooking pots stood out almost oddly.

Gesturing at a single far door hidden in it all, Alastor pretended he hadn't walked her into a horror movie. "My recording studio is over there, most sound proof place in hell! Bit cramped but it's rare to have a crowd. Otherwise I just tinker a bit."

As she followed him into the workshop, she immediately noticed how _much_ was there. Yet it was still amazingly clean and organized. Before she started wandering she glanced over to him. "Anything I absolutely _shouldn't_ touch?"

The collection of ingredients was drawing her eye, the blended scent of the dried herbs filling her nose as she picked out a few familiar ones over the cacophony of smells hitting her all at once. The dolls were starting to intrigue her as well, especially when she spotted one that looked much like the little shadow that had attached itself to her after Alastor's fight.

"Don't harm a doll and don't bleed on anything, but otherwise it's all as safe as any kitchen." He hummed, walking a little circle through the room to watch her and what caught her fancy. Not often he showed off his work space and besides Husk not many later left. 

Almost out of habit he glanced about, checking his stores of items.

With a nod, she started carefully exploring. Just like in the odd little shop she spent some time going through the herbs, sniffing happily at the various scents before examining the jars of powders. Some she _markedly_ avoided, knowing the contents would only spread a horrific smell, but a few she took down and looked over before replacing them carefully in their same place. 

The bones held her for a while, even pouring some of the smallest into her hand to examine them more closely before they were carefully returned to their resting place. "Do you ever use graveyard dirt in your work?" She asked over her shoulder. "I remember having to gather some of that before with a friend for something or other she was doing. Damned if I remember what it even was now." She chuckled softly at the memory, almost getting caught by the night watchman and having to jump a tall fence to get away.

For now she bypassed the studio door, delicately picking up one of the dolls and running her fingers with obvious care over the stitching and lines on it before gently placing it back where it had been.

Leaned on his table Alastor nodded, amused by her curiosity. He was starting to feel she might be inclined to being an herb witch if anything. "I do, but it's notoriously hard to come by down here. Hell doesn't have many graves and getting topside faire is ridiculously hard. Good thing it's not a common necessity~" Most of his work involved the more living aspects. Ones he suddenly realized he would be struggling with for a bit and _that_ thought caught him frozen, staring at some doll with a wide look and hard to repress flush. Oh. Hm. How...troubling.

She had just turned to ask him a question about the meaning behind the stitching or markings on the dolls when she spotted his frozen stance and that strange expression. For a moment she took in his form, so oddly still. Was, was he _blushing_ about something? That was new.

Crossing into his line of sight, she cleared her throat softly. "Alastor? Everything okay? Did... Did I damage something?" She immediately cast her eyes about. She didn't remember doing anything, in fact she'd been extra careful with everything.

An audible crack and his head jerked towards her, grin fixed before he giggled half brokenly. Covering his mouth when it didn't immediately _stop_. "Oh no...you didn't. Not really. Just a thought occurred and, well, it's complicated." He wheezed a bit, trying to _shut up_ and waving a hand at her. Oh dear, he hadn't even thought about his work when...well. "Pardon, I just got lost in my head. So! What are you...interested in?"

That crack made her startle back a step, that sudden slip of his humor into a more manic state making her flick her gaze toward the door to that twisting hall for a heartbeat. The entire explanation only left her more confused and the expression on her face was obvious as she gave him a sidelong stare. As if pondering that yet again she'd cornered herself with a madman. 

But seeing that an answer wasn't forthcoming, she relented after a moment. Not that her curiosity over the whole thing has lessened at all. "Well, all of it really. I dabbled a bit in kitchen and herb magic before I died. I don't know if I was any _good_ at it but it was interesting." She paused, glancing over at him again to gauge his expression momentarily before continuing, gingerly picking up one of the dolls again. "And I remember seeing the dolls on that trip I mentioned. I just knew I wasn't supposed to touch but no one really explained why. I guess they thought I'd have nightmares or something." She chuckled, delicately tracing her fingers along the horns stitched onto the doll she was holding. "All I know is it affects the person it's of, but not how."

Dolls. Yes, he could focus on that. "Well, there are a few types and most should not be touched. If you have one of yourself for instance you _never_ just leave it about because it's connected to you. And a simple vodou doll can be sanctified to connect to most people, even unwittingly, so they shouldn't be tampered with." Taking a calming breath he went to a nearby pile and picked up a small one. Shaking it at her gently so it flopped a bit.

"These are pwen dolls. Vessels to hold spirits and create a commune with the loa. The worst you could do is unmake a Shade, or warp it to a malignant force against someone. They are not attached to a _person_ so much as a facsimile of one." Looking at the one he held he turned it over and around, poking its bone button eyes with a claw. "Like shells to pour spooks into." Talking was settling the twisting upset in his guts, putting him tentatively back on keel and he tried to give her a helpful smile.

"Not that we won't be playing with dolls together, but that will be later!"

Whatever the issue had been, she seemed to have given him an out. He seemed to relax a bit as he spoke, though she definitely noticed that calming breath as he picked up the pwen. 

Her head tilted as he explained it though, absorbing the information as she carefully examined the one in her hands. His little offhanded joke rewarded him with a chuckle as she carefully placed the doll back down again with the others.

"That sounds a little out of my depth. Maybe I should stick to my herbs and candles for now." She smirked a bit. "Unless you think otherwise, of course. I shouldn't presume of the instructor, after all."

"Those crafts are fine, dear, but eventually you'll be helping me with mine." Just not for, say, another week. Damn, he felt himself choke again, setting his own pwen back down and dusting off his hands. That little epiphany just wouldn't _die_ and it was itching under his skin. 

"What _did_ you know then? Much of it is far easier in hell than earth, so perhaps you'd see better results?" Flicking a wrist at his shelves as he turned away, the other behind in back in a posture of self comfort he preferred. Forcing himself to distract. "I never delved much outside my own recipes..."

His behavior was _definitely_ more twitchy than normal. She watched him as he seemed to crawl inside his own skin for a moment again. What on Earth had gotten into his head like that? The way he seemed so keen to distract himself.

Coming around the table, moving slowly to keep him from outright spooking somehow as she spoke. "Mostly blessing jars. Protection work. The occasional hotfoot spell or binding when I needed it. Nothing too intense. I imbued a lot of it into cooking for friends, especially when I was working ones that would benefit them. I was basically like a cottage witch, but with fewer love spells." She chuckled gently, running her fingers over the jars and bundles as she spoke. 

If he'd been tracking her movement, and she was certain he had been, he'd notice she was much closer behind him now. And then she finally dropped it.

"I can tell you're freaking out over _something_ , you know. What's going on? You look like you're about to crawl out of your skin."

Her word choice made him laugh again, and honestly it felt good to let that staticky humor out. "My dear! You certainly have never _seen me_ crawl out of my skin. What a thing to say!" Turning to watch her, his gaze was closed and rattled, brows drawn through his off handed denial. 

"I merely thought of something I'd forgotten! Perhaps the last few days affected my attention. Maybe you have an acuity spell in your arsenal, hm? Or a nap might do me well." That wasn't likely to happen but it was a decent attempt to deflect and prey on her usual concerns. 

Running a hand over his face he covered his eyes a moment, trying to push back his internal issues.

For once she found her footing in that stubborn streak that had served her well on Earth. Pushing back the thoughts that he could break her with a snap, could _literally_ tear her to pieces without a thought on his part, she crossed her arms and stared him down. "I'll never argue against you getting more sleep, but _this_ isn't how you acted when you were sleep deprived."

She had no idea where this brashness was coming from, but she just quietly hoped it wouldn't come around to him eating her. Again. Or flat-out erasing her. It's not like it would take much.

"This is something else. What did I do? What is going on with you? Was it..." She paused a moment, an idea striking her mid-sentence and her tone softening as she finished. "Was it the night of the show? Is that it?"

The more she pushed the tighter he gripped his face, snarling around an uncomfortable rictus when claws met bone. It didn't matter, he _didn't care_ if he gouged himself because at least _then_ the mortified flush in his skin was hidden. But she came to a conclusion that made the static ping to a distorted stop, shoulders twitching in a flinch before he just...turned away. No, not talking about this. Just _no_. 

"I already told you, just remembered something." Wiping blood from his face and going past her to _leave_ and get away from this awful conversation. That was all he wanted, to drop it.

The way he only doubled down on that rejection, it only made her more certain. Especially when that static suddenly silenced. As he went to push past her, she nearly held back. She almost held back the reach that grabbed his wrist despite the obvious risk.

"Alastor! I'm not going anywhere, yet. Not unless you make me. If I caused something to go wrong just _tell_ me! You know I keep your secrets and I _try_ to respect your limits, but you can't just ignore what happens constantly just because it makes you uncomfortable!" That firm tone was back again. She knew she was treading heavily on incredibly thin ice. Ice that would probably shatter and end poorly for her. But her stubbornness wouldn't let him walk over her this time.

The man barely heard her but the demon shrieked a metallic rage and whirled on her, hearing questions and accusations and seeing her only in red and black. Tearing his arm free and not hesitating to back hand her straight into the table hard enough it slid across the room with her.

Ignore things? _Constantly_? Oh he was far past uncomfortable and she demanded more? _~~"Are you calling me a liar?"~~_ Gods he could barely speak for growling, shaking in temper as he stared her down. _~~"Is it your place, to decide my limits? My comfort? What I F#$KING TELL YOU?"~~_ Distortion screamed in his voice, shrill sounds censoring and pitching the sound till even his ears wanted to bleed.

The heavy slap across her face alone would have silenced her. But the impact against the table forced a cry from her as she slid across the floor, roughing up the soft cream skin he loved marking up. 

Tears sprang to her eyes in a combination of pain and terror at that furious tone as she felt his words nearly eviscerate her alone. Her fingers rose to that welted cheek as she cowered on the floor under his rage. As that demonic voice raised further, she covered her ears from sheer physical pain, curling submissively as she trembled under the verbal lashing. When he finally paused she whimpered before a timid, tiny voice escaped her. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." She whimpered softly, still crumpled on the floor where she'd slid to a stop.

The immediate spin of her attitude only made him seethe, stalking across the room to scruff her by hair and neck up to a loose stand, toes barely on the ground. ~~"Are you? What for? For stepping out of line or just because you're scared."~~ He spat it, the roar less but no less angry. 

Turning, he dragged her with him. He was _leaving_ , as he had wanted, and she _couldn't_ stop him. ~~"Do you think a pretty word makes it better? Erases your demands and spats? Oh no, dear, if you don't want to leave then. You. Won't."~~ Furious, absolutely livid and pulling her from the work room to a hall that was flickering in a strobe as his anger made the house shudder. Tentatively terrified sounds echoed out of cells now, pleading him for their needs or just broken in terror at the memory he existed.

A terrified cry escaped her as he pulled her up right to the tips of her toes, the roughness yanking more than a few strands out by the roots. Scruffed like a terrified animal, she flinched openly as he continued his verbal lashing. 

Dragged behind him, she sobbed in pure terror under his rage, her fingers fruitlessly trying to loosen the iron grip he held her in. Hearing the life in those cells and the sheer reaction of the house around him only made her scream out, begging for him to listen to her.

"Alastor... Alastor, please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it! Please stop! I'll do anything!" she was desperate, terrified of the unknown fate awaiting her in the claws of an infuriated demon.

Half of it wasn't even her fault. He knew that, _knew it_ was just his own panic and upset with himself, confusion with his actions, fueling the absolute heat of his rage. But she had _dared_ call him a liar and tried to force a confession and that painted a blazing red target for all those things he 'denied constantly' to pick a vessel. 

He knew he had a temper. That had never stopped him before from ruining his own life. 

Finding her a cell he rent the door open with far more force than needed, baring a simple black room with manacles and a table he had no patience for in this moment. Standing in the door he tossed her bodily in. ~~"If you want to stay, stay. I'm done talking about this."~~ And he slammed the door, leaving before he did something he'd regret further. Like break her to tiny, shrieking pieces in whatever this brazen-turned-whimpering _dog_ mood of hers was. Just _done_ with it.

She struggled mightily as he pulled open the door of the cell, but found herself tossed in with hardly a thought despite it. The impact of her body on the floor brought a new cry from her just as he slammed the door behind himself, sealing her in.

Too battered from multiple impacts to stand she just screamed his name, curled on the floor in that cell as she begged him to come back, that she was _sorry_. It continued until her voice finally gave out from sheer strain, leaving her to sob quietly in the dark, still feeling the burn of his backhand on her face and the throb of fresh bruises rising to the surface.

Whatever he'd heard from her had been pushed from his mind, for once not the screams he wanted to hear. Empty begging and apologies to save her own hide that felt like an insult after what he thought was more than just the usual master-servant friendship. He hated she could flip that switch. He hated that he _had_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't dolls cute? I think so.


	9. Static Silence

It was days before he even thought to cave in and go check on her. How many he couldn't tell but he acutely missed her at the few meals he made or when he walked his now empty house again for the first time in weeks. It dug under his skin and at first it served to fuel his anger at _everything_ and keep her locked away. Over time it served to opposite, widdling at him to go fetch her and set her back where she belonged and trust she had learned her lesson. 

Even when she had lain in dead recovery the house felt fuller. More aware to his senses that he wasn't drifting in an unending void of endless hours alone in a cage of his making. It lacked the peace of solitude to remember this was his choice, that he _wasn't_ alone but had banished his own chosen company. It stung. It weighed on his mind. It kept him pacing like an angry beast until even his temper exhausted and he felt nothing at all but the ache of hunger that dogged his afterlife.

Alastor didn't know how much time had elapsed because he hadn't slept. Counting days was useless in Hell anyway, he told himself that often, and even a short and chaotic stroll through town hadn't made coming home to pure silence any better but the moment he had thought to visit someone he thought of the excuses he'd be making for her absence and that - combined with the rest - sent him downstairs. Dressed in house clothes and so mentally numb that fixing his smile was unfeeling and plastic when he fiddled with her door to only open a crack of light into the dark, cold box he'd stored her in.

After days of that stifling silence the sound of the door opening was practically a gunshot to her ears. She'd sunk so deep into her own mind she hadn't even heard him approaching, only pulled back to reality when something changed. So when the door allowed a crack of light to hit her she recoiled. The darkness had left her eyes sensitive and the sudden influx made her clap her hands to her eyes and hiss in pain as she moved to evade the brightness in favor of a darker corner.

The room smelled animalistic after so many days of isolation, and though she was still dressed her clothing definitely showed the signs of having been lived in for so long. 

Curled in the dimmer corner as her eyes adjusted to the light, she finally was able to make out his silhouette in the door, squinting against the light as she whimpered quietly. She'd given up her cries for mercy for silence some time ago, but the sound of her own voice in her ears still felt strange after days of isolated silence. She was the picture of utter submission, cowed by the fury that had landed her here for so long.

He stayed quiet through the initial rush of movement, just watching and reconciling this pitiful thing with May before opening the door further and stepping aside. Staying out of her space. "Come out and go get yourself cleaned up." He didn't want to ask if she was well, if she was sorry or angry or _anything_. It didn't matter. Without being there to further her pain he had nothing else to say and it fell coldly from him in this numb state of mind.

Shaking from the adrenaline rush and with her body starved after so many days, she struggled to right herself. But with what looked like a Herculean effort, she managed it, even if she had to support herself on nearby surfaces to help her move with any kind of steadiness. She hesitated noticeably as she approached the door, glancing up at him nervously as if to make sure she could actually leave. 

Forcing back the desire to throw herself at his feet and beg for forgiveness for what she'd done, she slid quietly into the hall of cells. Still blinking a bit against the light but slowly readjusting to existing in a lever greater than that of a caged, terrified beast. Even so every line of her body easily showed she'd learned, that the lesson had sunk in _deeply_.

By the time she'd reached the top of that staircase, her vision had mostly adjusted, making it much less painful to navigate the halls of his home. Climbing the stairs to the upper hall was torture in it's own right, her weakened state making her shake again by the time she finally was able to reach her door. 

She didn't know how long it took her to return herself to a clean and neatly-dressed state, but she managed it, even though brushing the snarls from her hair took longer than she expected. Her instinctual need for water was thankfully met finally, though it only increased the stabs of hunger as she carefully picked her way back downstairs to find him. Something deep inside her mind told her he'd want her to report back as soon as she was presentable, despite the physical needs her body was demanding so loudly.

He waited for her at the small dining table, drink in hand and just staring into the glass with a blank look and too many thoughts on his mind that held the depth of total apathy. When she came down he didn't move, just slid his look to her.

"Come sit. You'll feel better with something in you." He didn't gesture but looked to the seat across from him where a simple setting appeared. A murky glass of sweet, hot drink more honey and herbs than water and simple oatmeal. The basics of curing a brief starvation.

Wordlessly she followed his instructions, slipping into that seat, hardly able to look him in the eye. What _could_ she say that she hadn't already? That wouldn't lead to her begging at his feet like the main character in some melodrama?

With an awkward grimace she picked up her spoon, the shakiness of her body even more clearly seen as she took the first bite. It was then that the sheer _need_ kicked in, the simple meal tasting like the sweetest ambrosia after the starvation. Even so she resisted the urge to eat the stuff straight from the bowl. 

Focused on filling that gnawing hole within her, the bowl was soon scraped clean. He was right. She was feeling much better already despite the heavy tension hanging over them.

Collecting the drink he'd made her, she cupped her fingers around it, for the moment enjoying the soothing heat against her fingers as she tried to find the nerve to break the silence. Finally she found it after a few sips, her gaze meekly finding his.

"Thank you, for coming back. For..." She swallowed a bit, voice thickening too fast in emotion. She had to force it back with another drink before she could continue. "For the meal. I'm sorry for what I said, before. I hope you can find a way to forgive me somehow. I..." She trailed off again, looking away as she fought back the rising lump in her throat that threatened to dissolve her into tears in front of him. Just trying to stay calm as she drank down the sweet concoction.

Watching her obey and tend her needs with only a clinical stare, giving her time to recover with respect, he met her eyes with only the soft burning heat of expectation. Quietly riding out her more heartfelt apologies and turning them over in his mind. This was better. 

"Miss May, let me make something clear." It came out cold and he took a drink, trying to lessen the tone born more of his state than any real irritation. "I do not forgive, but I do not often hold lingering anger either. If I did not enjoy your company you simply wouldn't be here, and if there is any doubt I could leave you downstairs forever I ask you reconsider the thought." 

Another sip and he sat back, looking drawn and tired and _frustrated_ with the urge to explain himself. "I have not done one damn thing I do not wish to do since my mother died. There is nothing you ever need think you made me ruin, disrupt, or need correct for me. And if you ever question the validity of what I say again you'll see the next century dawn in that box." Holding her eyes after a snap of his fingers, pulling her attention up. "I may be mad, and may be a broken and mean old bastard, but I am an honest one. One way or another. And if that is clear you have nothing further to fret about."

The words sank into her, fully understanding exactly how far she'd overstepped the last time she'd been in his presence. The idea of being left to waste away completely ignored in that cold cell made her swallow nervously as her gaze slipped away from his. The last, _days?_ she wondered to herself, had been awful enough. She couldn't imagine that stretching into years or even decades.

That snap, however, brought her eyes back to his. Not trusting her voice at the moment, she nodded her understanding and finished her drink. It was only after that she felt a little more stable. Lowering her head again, fingers fidgeting with her skirt nervously, she let out a heavy breath. It wasn't forgiveness, exactly, but at least it was a chance to try again.

"I understand. I do. And whatever I need to do to keep you pleased with me I'll do my best. I'm sorry I questioned you."

"I already told you what I expect. Don't become a sycophant just because you've angered me once. I despise simpering." He chuffed, rolling his eyes and actually relaxing a small degree himself that she at least hadn't fought him on it. Nothing grated him more than when his few good points were doubted in the light of his flaws. 

Looking her over he released a long breath, one memory remaining with him. "I hadn't meant to strike you." Not quite regretful but quiet, still bothered he had lost his head that far and that quickly. A clawful touch was something he did often but to actually strike a lady was a different line to him, an unsavory one. "It doesn't suit either of us."

That admission more than anything helped soothe her remaining nerves and she relaxed visibly. Without even realizing it she lifted her fingers to the cheek he'd slapped, now free of any marks after so many days. But her memory had clearly marked the spot of that strike.

"You weren't yourself. I should have stopped pushing. We both did things we wish we hadn't, I think." 

Finally feeling a bit more stable she finally gave him the first smile she'd been able to form since she'd ended up in that cell. It was small but it was there as she gathered her few dishes to tidy so he wouldn't have to, the food and their conversation having improved her emotional state immensely.

A soft hum was as close to agreement as she would get, listlessly watching her go about her considerate chore in a low energy. Just waiting for the next spike of high to hit because while he hated to be still he just couldn't raise the effort to get up right now. 

"Your phone rang itself to death. What in Hell do you have it set up for so many sounds for?" It had chimed at least a hundred times before it died, an obvious sound in his quiet house while she had been below. It was a relief when it stopped, easing his urge to go smash the infernal thing.

As she washed her dishes, she couldn't help but chuckle at the complaint against her phone. "Sorry about that... The sounds though? Some of them are to tell me someone specific is calling or sending me a message. I'm sure after a little while my friends got a little worried again. I'll get back to them. Other ones were probably just alerts about things. News stories I might have an interest in, things like that. I'm try to turn some of them off "

The return to such a normal topic was soothing, and she smiled more easily as she dried the dishes and replaced them.

"Speaking of which, did anything happen of importance? No new fights or anything?"

"That sounds like an exhausting use of air space." He couldn't fathom wanting to hear even more alerts to such drivel. What came through on the ambient waves was enough, but then again no one who knew him bothered to send much in the way of notes except the rare call. 

"Nothing I'm aware of unless you count 37 deaths in the south Pentagram." He shrugged one shoulder, nonplussed. "I aimed for 50 but got tired. It's not a very attractive area no matter how it's colored so I came home."

As she hung up the towel she'd used she glanced over at him, quietly inspecting for the signs of any hidden wounds but not able to see any. "Well you seem to have come through without much issue, so that's good. And yes, at times the alerts get to be a bit much. Thankfully there's a silent mode. I'll try to employ that for you, though my friends might still alert. But it won't be so frequent, at least. I can show you how to do that for next time if you need me to."

The offer was made with no mockery. Simply wanting to make his own life simpler if she couldn't get to the phone herself. Realizing he'd been exceptionally still she came around the counter to give him a more studying glance, trying to be careful of her words. She didn't want to upset him again. "Alastor? Have you slept recently? You seem quiet."

"Most sinners are no issue. It was only a stroll to help me think." He admitted, laughing lightly and waving a hand at her offer. "That would be kind of you, the new devices change too often for me to keep up with unless I want to extend myself. And I don't." No insult at all in admitting he had simply waived the priority of modernizing for now. Eternity would eventually force his hand but he would hold out until his own pace decided. 

A wry smirk replaced his grin at her concern, even if he didn't have a good answer for her. "Define 'recently', my dear. Because I've slept quite a bit in the recent month."

Pondering a bit she leaned on the counter, looking for a good scale to use for recent. "Well, and I might be wrong, but I'm fairly sure you haven't really slept fully since your fight with Vox. Obviously I can't be sure but you seem not your usual energetic self."

She tilted her head slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder as it finally started to dry fully after the thorough scrubbing she'd given herself earlier. Even after all this, she was still worried about _him_.

"What does sleeping fully entail then, because I slept often after that scuffle and...if I recall I slept the night of the royal show." That much he was perfectly aware of because it was the _last_ time he had touched his bed. Mentally giving loose counter that had only been four to six days ago. At most. "Perhaps I'm less than lively but I _am_ dead, you know." A small chuckle and he ran a hand down his shirt, looking at himself askance with a lack of total care if he was well. 

"Isn't Hell a teeny bit happier when I'm tired anyway?"

That familiar blush was back as she remembered that strangely physical night between the pair of them, something she did her best to push back down in her mind as she chuckled at his joking comments. "Hell might be happier, but I'm not living with the rest of them. And for a dead man you're quite the energetic specimen, even among a world populated mostly by dead sinners."

She smiled warmly now, reassured at his relative health but making a quiet note to try to keep track, just in case she needed to press the issue.

Her quip made him chuckle and he nodded reluctantly, ceding the point. "Well, then maybe it's calmer for you when I have a quiet day. Hell can go play in traffic." 

May looked better, and that was all that mattered. The matter was behind them, she had learned her lesson and resumed her proper self and Alastor was done with the issue. Getting up with intentions to go work in the pantry he touched her shoulder in passing. "I'm going to play, do whatever you like tonight." He murmured.

Her smile was warm as he touched her in passing. It was a comfort knowing that the matter seemed past and settled. "Maybe I'll go reassure my friends I'm actually alive. I'll take my phone. If you want me for anything, you know how to get me home. I'll come running."

He seemed to want the space so she wound her way to her room to dress for a casual night out, charging up her device as she bustled about arranging meetups.

Before leaving she arranged his rum bottle and a glass on the counter, pinning down a note with a general idea of where she'd be if he needed to find her in person and a promise that she'd be home before it got too late. If the faintest whiff of that floral perfume clung to the paper it was only residual from her fingertips that had applied the scent before she left.

The better part of the afternoon Alastor distracted himself in the workroom, chopping and quartering and if he was eating as he worked there was no one to judge him for the lack of manners in chewing on a femur as he listened to progressively distorted music in his leisure. It was a violent sort of self care but certainly not his worst and he told himself such when he took note of the mess he'd made. Something easy to snap away but he was acutely aware that perhaps he was a bit out of sorts. 

The idea of May leaving and traversing to and from his home alone had his hackles raised, a portion of his mind caught on alert for if she _did_ call him and he couldn't bring himself to pin down why. 

Coming out hours later to find her still gone didn't much ease that feeling, making himself dinner -because work snacks did not count as a meal- and drinking the remainder of the bottle she had left out. That note got under his skin in the worst way, rising a hostility towards whomever had stolen her attention for what was becoming longer and longer, and he read it over and over with a burning glare. It was his own fault, letting her leave, but it still stung. 

He would _not_ go retrieve her. That was petty and childish. And truly he didn't have to. She would be back. And the longer it took, even after he was fed and sitting in his study reading the same page over and over with that note as a marker, the more he wondered what she was doing. If she preferred it.

It was near dark when she returned, having spent the afternoon catching up and fending off concern that she'd been caught up in some horrible scenario. She caught them up as best as she could without letting anything slip, just like she knew he'd want. Yes, she was safe as she could be, she was happy, and enjoying delightful company. 

As much as she'd enjoyed it though, after a while she just wanted to retreat from the modern bustle full of noise and activity. So finally she'd found an excuse, that she had to get going. An early morning. That she'd try to keep in better touch.

Silencing her phone before she opened the front door, she slipped off her shoes and closed it gently. Letting out a sigh, she leaned against it for a moment before straightening and running her fingers through her hair to fix any flyaways. "Alastor?" She called out, seeing if he was in an area he could hear her so she could avoid having to search the house.

Her voice jarred him from a staring daze he wasn't sure how long he had held, caught in the white noise of static and irritation. "My study, dear." He didn't have to raise his voice much, glancing back down to see he had made no progress at all in his book. Shutting it with a frustrated sigh. What in the hell was wrong with him..

Her figure was soon crossing his study before she leaned in to brush the ghost of a kiss to his cheek and surrounding him just for a moment in the faintest whiff of that floral scent. "I hope your day was well. My friends enjoyed seeing me but, honestly I ended up just missing _you_."

A gentle smile adorned her features, leaning on the edge of that wide desk near him. "Did you have a productive day?" She was still energized from her own, or maybe it was just that she was back in the place she'd come to call home so recently.

The kiss and the scent made his mind skip, an audible pause in his ambiance that he struggled to recover from. Missing half her words but feeling a bit vindicated that she'd missed him. That she still wanted to think of him while testing her bonds of freedom. 

"It was a day...mostly just busy work that needed to be done." He blinked, setting his book aside and looking her over in a not subtle scrutiny. He suddenly _hated_ that he could smell others on her. The crowds of hell and the touch of her friends. 

"What did you do. While out."

She didn't seem to notice that skip in his aura, or if she did she was polite enough not to bring it up. Bracing her arms on the desk, she leaned back a bit, recounting her day.

"Nothing special. Met up with the two I told you about, had some food and drinks, got Connor a new outfit for a date he's going on soon. They were _dying_ to know what I'd been up to." She chuckled, glancing at him before continuing. "But don't worry, I kept it as simple as I could. Connor can sniff out a lie faster than Brat can sass off. So I told them I'd met someone, that we'd been enjoying our time together."

Picking a piece of lint off her slacks, she blushed softly. "Brat was demanding to meet whoever was holding my attention like this. The woman is rabid for details. You're lucky she's not a reporter or you might have been in trouble." She chuckled softly.

Nodding to her jovial playback of her day, he was trying to keep his attention on words alone as his mind skipped. It was distracting, a continuation of whatever had been plaguing him all night. It resolved in a promise to himself to at least try to sleep. 

"Somehow I doubt she would be so delighted if she knew the details. Or my name." It came out more sour than he expected, self depreciated in the bitter resentment he was feeling about how lustrous his attention sounded when no one knew who she'd been with. 

A strange spike hit him that May wasn't protecting his privacy, that she just didn't trust him with her friends. Which wasn't unusual but perhaps cruel to his manners. Or just shamed of being in his care, which hit just as hard. It made him look away, crackling the air as he stared into his fireplace with a vengeance. "Sounds like you had a fun day!" Forced brightness and stuffing his odd thoughts away.

His sudden dour attitude caught her off-guard. She thought he would have been _happy_ to know she'd kept the details minimal for him. He always seemed to be so private after all, why would he want those details out?

"Alastor, what is it? I..." She paused, remembering how she'd misstepped so gravely just so recently. The thought died in her throat in nervousness as she pushed back the memory of that cell.

After an awkward pause she finally risked it. Moving closer she laid a hand delicately on his wrist as he stared pointedly into the fire.

"I thought you'd want your privacy. I didn't want... I'm sorry." She spoke gently, her tone sincere. "I do love being here. It was all I could think about when I was out, as much as I love those two. I just wanted to be _here_." She smiled softly, squeezing his wrist gently. "With _you_."

That touch was grounding, pulling his thoughts out of a spiral and without a thought he turned his hand to grip her arm, tugging her forward as he sought more of the first thing that made him feel like a person all day. Less like an embodiment of the waves he contained. 

"I have my secrets, yes. If you were to gossip I'd be quite irate but..." Alastor sighed, glancing to hold her eyes from the corner of his. "It still stings to know how differently your day may have been if you'd only said my name. And that you knew it too." There was a time and place for fear, for fleeing, and it could be amusing to see sinners caught in that battle in the streets but he quite suddenly resented that it touched on _everything_ near him. Husk had lost his own reputation being known attached to him, Niffty was practically a nobody because no one risked his attention for a chance with her. And it had just struck him he'd done that to May too. 

He kept pulling until she was in his lap, sinking his mind into notice of that contact and laying his forehead on her shoulder. It felt like he'd had _such a long day_. "The house feels better with you in it."

She followed his pull on her arm, quietly amazed all over again when he showed that desire for touch. Gathered into his lap, she smiled gently, letting him sink his head onto her shoulder. "I didn't think of it like that. I'm sorry. I didn't think you wanted anyone knowing. I would have felt like a total gossip..." She spoke softly, soothingly. 

She reached to stroke his hair. He just looked so _tired_ , like he needed a gentle touch. But that admission stilled her fingers for a moment as the words sank into her. He may not have seen her smile with his head on her shoulder but it was there, just as much as the momentary hitch in her breathing as her fingers stroked through his hair. "Well I'm back now..." she answered softly, the words whispered gently into his ear.

It was what he needed and he hadn't known until she did it. Ears flicking back low, wary of her hands, he still didn't protest the slide of her fingers in his hair. He brought this, he permitted it and it was _good_. Combined with her sweet scent he could feel a purr building and didn't bite it back.

"I'm a difficult man, aren't I?" He was quiet, musing on how easily she picked up on things once he said it but- but he so often _didn't_. It felt like a chore to explain himself, to express what he thought was so telescribed. "Husker's always called me a wreck, my mam called me a mess, Annabeth just... called me broken. I never make sense do I?" Why was he even chattering? Something in her heat on him and that comfort had him rambling, piecing thoughts together aloud and it felt good but uncontrollable.

Her fingers kept up that steady caress, occasionally tracing deep enough to tease her claws over his scalp, just enough to feel. Just letting him express his tangled thoughts while she rested against him and enjoying the quiet comfort.

"Difficult? Maybe." She chuckled, the tone gentle and anything but mocking. "But you have your ways of showing yourself." Her fingers sank to his neck, stroking along the line of his spine with a feather touch. "And I love a good puzzle." She joked gently, trying to reassure him and simultaneously pull his spirits up a bit as she stroked along his jaw with her free hand, just trying to give him that soothing touch he needed.

She really did have him purring, shifting his face to her throat and looping his arms around her to knit his fingers on her spine. Why this felt so nice he couldn't place but did it really matter? It may be selfish but she wasn't arguing.

"I'm a puzzle with fangs. That's hardly a kind hoop to force you through. Especially when I can see you trying so hard." Claws on his neck made him shudder hard, a chill rising up his spine with the fur hidden there, exhales crackling. "It would be so nice to have an off switch. Or one that made me see how others see life for a day. Sort out of this damn static in my head. Read the manual to my own habits." Half confession and half complaint, just rambling easily in the comfort of knowing he owned her confidences. "I'm abysmal at playing a man. The weakest part in the whole play."

"If you came with an off switch or a manual it wouldn't be nearly as much of a puzzle." She answered gently, one hand keeping up that soft caress on his neck as he pressed his face to her neck where that faint lingering scent rested. "And I, for one, often find great _enjoyment_ in those fangs, if you recall." Shameless? Maybe, but still the truth.

Loving the feel of his arms around her, she relaxed into it, her soft frame molding comfortably to his. "And if you aren't always the best at playing a man, so what? That's only part of you anyway. You wouldn't be yourself if you were _just_ a man." She smiled, even knowing he couldn't see it.

He could still hear the smile in her voice, trained to by years of exposure to tone and career. It made his easy even if his morose mood was hard to shake. Teasingly he nipped at her throat, answering her shameless jibe with the action and rumbling a growl at her taste there. It was downright addicting. 

"Pity even in Hell there aren't many monsters or I just wouldn't bother." So often he just wished to shed his skin and never put it back on. Or at least rarely. It was a pleasing thought, and her almost acceptance of it was a stoking heat in his chest. 

He let her go with one hand, reaching to undo the buttons at his collar that near choked him at this angle, enjoying her claws. It didn't feel indecent to put it back on her hip, tracing circles lazily.

Her breath caught at that teasing little nip, unable to stop the shiver of pleasure that raced down her spine as her eyes closed for a moment. "Oh that's not fair" she whispered out. "Not unless I can bite back" she teased gently.

Feeling his collar loosen under her touch before his hand settled on her hip, her fingers slid under it gently. Stroking softly at what was normally concealed as his hand traced circles on her hip.

"And as much as you might feel like you're better as a monster? I do enjoy you like this as well." She murmured in his ear, trailing her claws gently along the back of his neck.

"Since when am I fair." He grumbled lightly, nipping again without remorse and flicking an ear right into her face when she tickled it with her voice. It was hard not to _squirm_ with her clawing the thin fur she found, tightening his hold on her in the best permission he had for her to continue. 

"And _why_ do you like this, hm?" Distracted, thoughts hazing under pettings and scents and the melting urge to nuzzle against her in a primitive action to scent her he didn't notice had translated from thought to action, mind more anticipating where her hands were than what he was doing.

That second nip had her releasing a softly shuddered breath against his ear as it flicked. Not expecting it, the sensation earned him a surprised giggle, even as his hold on her tightened. 

Her steady strokes to his neck soon resumed, claws delicately trailing over flesh and fur alike without comment. Her chin lifted slightly as he nuzzled in against her, exposing her throat subtly as she answered him.

"Hmm. Well for one I think you probably make a _much_ better dancer like this," she chuckled. "I may not be the _best_ dancer but at least I don't have two left feet to tangle with!" 

The hand teasing under his collar trailed around his neck, claws tracing along that hidden line where neck meets shoulder.

"I can dance in hooves..." A quiet rebuttal with no heat, giving her a last sharp lick before her claws encouraged him to lean aside and expose that line of flesh with a low rumble. It was a near innocent bit of skin but touched so rarely it felt electric. Running chills that heated his spine when she focused there. Such a lazy, low grade pleasure he felt no alarm at how intimate it was to be exchanging these touches, baring himself for them selfishly in a haze that was purely her in his senses like an oversized animal. Whining under his breath between purrs.

"Maybe so but you probably wouldn't be able to spin me nearly so well" she chuckled, her claws circling almost lazily as she heard that soft whine escaping him. 

Her free hand ran along his arm lightly, tracing the hidden warmth of him from his shoulder to her hip. "Plus I doubt you could pull me into your lap quite so easily." She smiled, nuzzling into his hair softly as they relaxed under the shared, slow touches. "And I'm rather liking it here at the moment"

Words were failing him, half formed in his tiredness and falling behind a wall of languid static. Humming his agreement, _thoroughly_ enjoying where she was, the demon chuffed a quiet note and tugged her tighter to himself with a possessive prick of claws on her back and thigh. She was his, right here after _missing_ him and happy with him and after days of hostile silence without company _this_ was perfect. "Mine." A sleepy growl, snapping his teeth at her because he couldn't be bothered to raise his head and disrupt her hands.

That simple word sent such a delighted shiver through her. Only the subtle tightening of her fingers around his wrist showed how _deeply_ she enjoyed hearing it. "Damn right, yours" she smiled, parroting his words from the other night in a gently humored tone.

She smiled warmly despite the snap of his teeth, seeing how he was sinking into a sleepy state with each stroke of her claws. Pulling them from his collar slowly, she cupped his jaw gently, lifting his head to look at her even as his claws prickled so perfectly against her. "Let's go to bed. You're about to fall asleep right here. Come on... You know the bed is more comfortable." She coaxed him gently.

"Damn right." Grumbled with humor, blinking at her slowly when she gave him such a polite command. He couldn't argue, didn't want to, and just nodded as his hands released to find the armrests of the chair. Letting her climb up before finding his own feet heavily. "Ya'right. Let's go."

The gesture for her to precede him was lazy, focus on not wavering on his feet along the path upstairs and not even really paying attention past following her. Maybe it had been closer to six days than four then, but laying down sounded _divine_.

She slid slowly from his lap at his agreement, smiling warmly and gathering her things as he finally found his way to his feet. But before she followed that lazy gesture, she tangled her fingers loosely with his own, just keeping that gentle contact as she guided him along the path to his door.

She stopped only long enough to deposit her things on her bed and quickly change herself into something more comfortable for sleep before rejoining him. The poor man looked nearly dead on his feet now that he'd relaxed, and she was determined to at least get him stretched out on his bed before he decided to sleep right where he fell.

"Come on... Almost there" she smiled, fingers catching his again in an easy comfort to pull him gently along toward his door.

He didn't even notice he had haze leaned against the wall as she tended herself, eyes flickering in and out of a red static as his mind fought the microsleep of being still. Remarkable what a few endorphins could do to an exhausted mind. 

A matter of long habit kept him up, ears and posture tall and smile fixed despite the gravity clawing at him to just doze where he stood. Practically under water he nodded and turned himself over to her with only the slightest flare of instinct to still be _aware_ of himself. 

It made his rooms a blur, a tall shade opening doors since his was just as tired as he, and once in his room he started an automatic habit towards his chair. So often where he sat away from his seldom used bed.

A gentle nod to the shade thanked it for the kindness, guiding it's master with that gentle grip on his hand. Feeling him start to pull towards his chair, she pulled him with a gentle pressure. "Ah, ah. _Bed_." She corrected gently, turning to face him and catching both his hands in her own now. Pulling him along as she backed her way towards the thing.

Gentle hands pressed him to sit once she'd pulled back the bedding, loosening the top button of his shirt but no further. Then she moved to her knees in front of him, bending to the task of removing his shoes so he could rest in comfort.

Low grumbling static gave away his verbal eye roll to the pushy commands but he complied without putting his weight down to stop her. By time he braced himself to sit _upright_ , he assumed, he blinked at the top of her head. 

The image hit him with such a strange old burst of nostalgia it choked off his voice and he could only huff a small whine of metallic sounds watching her. At least aware of what she was doing and not fighting her motions, untucking his shirt and undoing the cuffs so they wouldn't strangle his wrists. 

It felt bizarre, but so did conciousness right that moment, and resolutely he resisted curling his feet away from her as layers shed. No matter what he said of being a man or beast he didn't often let people look at anything but his face, conscious of his talons with a sleepy frown between his eyes.

Pushing his shoes aside without a single comment, she smiled as she stood again. She'd picked up his little noises, hearing only his exhaustion in them as she took in his exhausted, hazing form. 

"Lie down, now" she spoke softly, reaching to brush a few strands of hair from his face with a gentle touch. "I'll stay here unless you tell me otherwise." That tone still soft, even as she found a quiet bit of humor in her own mind in her issuing _him_ orders. It was just so strange, and she couldn't help the thought.

His sturdy bed didn't even shift when he bodily flopped himself into her indicated placement, chuffing as he half caught the same humor but couldn't bring himself to be insulted. At least the way she phrased it he didn't have to say anything about what he wanted. He wasn't even sure but he wasn't against her staying.

Curling an arm over his eyes, they were flickering too much to be of use anyway, he let her make her own choices. Shadow watching lightly, guarded and still feeling lost in his skin to be tucked in by another.

Seeing him settle into the bed, she pulled the blankets up over his form. Without protests to guide her one way or another, she smoothed the bedding over him before moving around to the other side of that bed and slipping between the sheets. The idea of leaving for the isolation of her own room just didn't sound appealing after the quiet intimacy they'd shared and he hadn't said no to her staying.

It was strange, sharing his bed, something so unexpected in comparison with his seeming instinctual drive for privacy. But the comfort of being near him, especially after days of isolation, was one she desperately and quietly wanted.

Finding his hand under the sheets, she hooked her fingers loosely with his, letting him drift in silence as she settled. Giving him the space should he want it despite that small bit of contact she indulged in. It wouldn't take long for her to start slipping into sleep, either. The sheer physical comfort of a _bed_ being too great to ignore, whether or not it was one shared.

It was a testimony to his exhaustion that he didn't notice her grip, asleep almost before she settled beside him. It may have been something of the scent and harmlessness of the gal that stirred no alarms but he was just as comforted to not be alone. 

In anything but silence, his waves an ever present static of soft white noise interspersed with quiet pops like a muffled fire, he _slept_. Tipped by unusual parallels into old memories and dreams and twisting in the night to curl against her without waking. Using her more as a sink for his heat than a source and burying his face in her hair in a total lax, sans smile or awareness or _anything_. Even his shadow was a faded pair of eyes watching only for hostile movement about the house, insubstantial in his rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See, I can remember to post.  
> Cheers folks!


End file.
